Fire
by super manako sohma
Summary: FIRST SOUTH PARK FIC. Warmth with a new title. This is just a collection of long Style oneshots centered around a subject of my choice. Fluff ensured. Not quite sure if it's just romance or friendship, but work with me. Rated T for South Park.
1. Hair

Mana here. This is my first South Park fic and I'm pretty nervous. Normally I write Fruits Basket stuff, so you'd kinda figure. Anyway, I'm gonna start this out with a bunch of fluffy StanxKyle drabblets, and each chapter's gonna be centered around something, mkay? Romance, friendship...I don't know. You decide. Well, here goes…

Hair

Kyle had always been jealous of Stan Marsh's hair.

It was as dark as the night sky and it shone brighter than a full-moonlit night.

And on those rare occasions where Stan would take off his hat, the wind would grasp the black silkiness, tousling it relentlessly.

At these times, Kyle wished his hair would do that.

He wished that it would be like his best friend Stan's.

But no.

He had only a useless auburn "Jew fro" he was so self conscious about that he kept it hidden under his green ushanka.

He would secretly cringe every time he saw his best friend's hair, wishing it would have been blessed upon him instead.

On a Friday night Kyle decided to stay the night at Stan's.

Of course, he hadn't told him yet, but because they've known each other since diaper days no one would mind.

"Hello Kyle," Sharon greeted him, "Stan's upstairs."

Kyle nodded thanks and ascended the staircase.

"Hey dude," said Kyle casually as he proceeded into Stan's room.

But then he stopped, eyes wide.

"Dude what the hell?"

In Stan's hands was a hair straightener.

"It's not what it looks like," Stan said quickly, "see Shelly went out with friends and I went to her room and I saw this thing and I just wanted to check it out…"

Kyle stayed frozen.

So this was why his hair was silky shiny every time his hat was off.

It wasn't natural at all.

It was fake.

"Hey Kyle, you ok?"

"Stan…" Kyle looked somewhat hurt.

"Aw dude! Don't get upset over this! Jesus Christ!"

"Do me next."

Stan dropped the straightener.

"What?"

"You heard me," Kyle took off his Ushanka, "do me next."

Stan smiled as he nonverbally invited Kyle over to sit on his bed.

He combed through his messy fro and began to straighten the first strand towards his face.

The newly straightened strand fell in front of his eyes.

Stan worked his way through more of Kyle's thick curls until everything became a homogenous mixture of smooth and straight.

Kyle looked at himself in the mirror.

This hair went down to his neck, looking somewhat like Stan's.

"Dude that thing kicks ass!"

Kyle flipped his hair for the first time ever.

His new hair flowed elegantly around his face and teased his cheeks

Stan shrugged.

"It looks good on you, Kyle."

He ran his fingers through Kyle's hair.

"I'm jealous, dude."

XX

Ok, I suppose that wasn't too bad for a start, right? Have mercy ^^;;


	2. Hands

Mana here. I bring to you a second installment. It's 11:42pm and I have school tomorrow AND I'm extremely tired. By the way, these drabblets don't really follow any sort of pattern or theme. They just come in the order that I think of.

I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but:

**DISCLAIMER**: I don't own South Park.

Ok, here's Hands. Hope you enjoy.

Hands

Kyle Broflovski's hands were the most beautiful thing to Stan.

They were pale, smooth-looking, flawless, and probably cold.

Stan watched as his best friend's hand flew about his assignment sheet, guiding his pencil in writing the answers.

He looked at his own hands and grimaced at them.

They had marker stains all over from art class in the morning and dirt from recess piled underneath his chewed up fingernails.

He looked over at Kyle's nails; perfect, as expected.

Being the rich, Jewish kid he is Kyle probably gets them manicured every week.

That's a stupidly hilarious thought; they're only 8 after all.

Stan sighed, knowing he could never be of worth to his best friend.

"Stan!" Mrs. Garrison's voice woke him from his daydream, "did you not hear a word I said?"

"Uh…"

Mrs. Garrison sighed. "Pick a partner and go research the Berlin Wall."

That sounded relatively easy.

Naturally, Stan picked Kyle and selected a part of the classroom library farther from the rest of the class.

Stan hid his hands in the sleeves of his jacket, self-conscious about the messiness of them.

Especially in front of Kyle.

"Are you cold?" Kyle asks him, noticing his act.

"Yeah," Stan lied.

But it was Colorado, and it was snowing outside. Most likely one would think he was cold.

Stan continued reading the topic silently and tried to write down information in his notebook.

Tried being the key word, seeing as that he could barely write with his hand in his sleeve.

"Are you seriously that cold, dude?" Kyle asked him. "Because I could write it down if you read it to me."

Kyle took Stan's notebook, while Stan took a glimpse of Kyle's perfect hand.

Right there, in front of him. So perfect, so smooth.

"Ok, ready?"

Stan broke from his stupor and began to read.

"After World War II, Nazi Germany was divided into four regions in ordinance with the Potsdam Conference…"

They continued this for ten minutes until Stan had to turn the page.

He found this to be very difficult, due to the fact his fingers were away from convenient use.

In the end, Kyle licked his own fingers and turned the page for him.

Stan blushed but he tried to hide it.

"Are you ok?" Kyle asked.

"I'm fine," Stan said quietly.

"Ok, you know what—"

Kyle took Stan's hands and pulled his sleeves up, just to see how cold they really were.

Stan gasped.

Kyle's ice cold skin met with his warmth. His hands were soft and smooth, as he had predicted.

Their hands fit perfectly. It was as if they were made for each other.

Seconds passed.

Kyle gasped now.

"Liar, your hands aren't even cold!"

"I'm sorry! Look, I—"

Stan blushed harder. Shit. He was caught.

He pulled his hands away but Kyle grabbed them back.

"I didn't say let go."

"What?"

"My hands are cold. Could you warm them for me?"

Stan smiled; relief. His best friend wasn't mad at him.

"Sure thing."

XX

Nice…I think. Probably my last one for tonight.


	3. Blood

Mana here. I think I've come up with a new title. Excitement, yay! Well anyway…this is somewhat different from the rest of them. This isn't really told from anyone's point of view. And Cartman makes his first appearance here. Yay! Without further ado, please enjoy.

**DISCLAIMER:** I still don't own South Park. But I used to live near there.

Blood

Every morning at the bus stop was the same. Kyle, Stan and Cartman would stand by the yellow sign, waiting for their ride to school (Kenny's dead by the way.) But such really is the purpose of a bus stop.

Another thing that was the same in this bus stop setting was Kyle and Cartman bickering over something.

"Hey Jew, gimmie a dollar."

"Fuck you fatass!"

Stan sighed; same boring routine, same old fucking argument.

"AY! I'm not fat! Gimme a dollar, Jew!"

"You owe me from last week!"

"Aww look at the Jew, keeping track of his loans."

"Shut up Cartman!"

"I can have one-" Stan started.

"No don't give it to him! Let that fatass fend for himself!"

Stan stayed quiet. When Kyle and Cartman fight, it was an ugly thing that everyone should stay out of.

"AYY! You're really pissing me off now!"

"Well you deserve it for having such a fat ass!"

"You're just a fucking Jew pussy!"

"Goddammit shut up!"

"Fine you know what? I don't need your fucking Jew money!"

Cartman pushed Kyle down onto the concrete of the street, disregarding the "ouch!" that came with it.

Stan, landing back to reality, rushed over to where Kyle was lying and helped him to sit up.

"Are you ok, man?" Stan asked him worriedly.

"Yeah, I think so."

"What the fuck dude?" Stan turned to Cartman. "You didn't have to push him!"

"Fat son of a bitch…" Kyle muttered.

"Well excuse me," Cartman exaggerated the 'excuse me' part.

"Goddammit Cartman he could have gotten seriously hurt!"

"Psh, like I care. Stan, gimmie me a dollar."

Stan flipped him off.

"FUCK YOU!!!"

"Whoa! Ok! Ok! You know what? Screw you guys, I'm going home!"

Cartman left.

"Fucktard," Stan muttered after him.

He turned to Kyle.

"Can you get up?"

"I think so," Kyle tried to stand up only to fall back down. "Ouch!!"

"What?" Stan looked over his best friend, scanning for injuries until he stopped at his knee.

There was a tear in his jeans, followed by a bloody scrape.

He grabbed his leg.

"Dude—" Kyle blushed slightly.

Stan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper strip.

He peeled the paper off, revealing a band aid.

Kyle, knowing what would come next, pulled his pants leg up, letting the cold snow sting his pale leg.

Stan took Kyle's knee, wiped the blood off with his sleeve, (A/N: seriously don't actually wipe a wound with your sleeve. You might get infected and I might get in trouble for influencing all y'all) and applied the band aid neatly.

"There," Stan wiped imaginary sweat off his forehead, "feeling better?"

"Um," Kyle smiled, "it still hurts a little."

Stan raised his eyebrows.

"Could you…kiss it better?"

Stan laughed.

He pulled his face to Kyle's knee and gave it a light peck.

"There?"

"Yeah. Thanks dude."

XX

Cartman bashing, yay!

More to come!!


	4. Kiss

Mana here. I think I'm gonna try a little romance this time. Just to see what all y'all think.

Kiss

Stan had a girlfriend.

Her name was Wendy Testaburger.

They weren't like most boyfriends and girlfriends, not only because they were just 8 years old, but because they never kissed. They tried to, but Stan always got nervous and threw up.

Kyle was always edgy when Stan was with Wendy. They never had any time together anymore the past days, and he missed that.

After school on a Friday, Stan did promise to have Kyle over at his house for a sleepover. Kyle got out of class first and waited outside the school for his best friend.

Stan usually took long because he was with Wendy at his locker and then at her locker. Kyle sighed; he remember the times where they've waited for each other and followed each other at their lockers and spent their whole days together.

Those days were fun, but they were never going to come back.

Well, maybe. Stan and Wendy were in somewhat of an on and off relationship so they'd break up every once in a while.

_I hope they break up soon,_ Kyle thought. But then he caught himself. It was selfish for him to think such. After all, Stan was his best friend, and he wants him to be happy.

"Bye Stan, I love you," Kyle heard Wendy saying from the school entrance, followed by the sound of Stan throwing up.

Kyle had to chuckle at that.

"Hey Kyle," Stan saw him.

"Yo, ready to go home?"

"Yeah."

They walked silently to Stan's house and spent the rest of the afternoon playing video games.

As darkness approached, they had pizza in Stan's room and looked at funny YouTube videos.

It was already 9:30 when Stan's mom made them get offline, which left the two subjected to getting ready for bed.

"Hey Stan?" Kyle asked as he finished brushing his teeth.

"Yeah?"

"Why do you like Wendy?"

Stan spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth.

"What do you mean, why?"

"Well I don't know…just, why?"

Stan shrugged.

"She's pretty cool I guess."

"Hm."

Silence.

"Have you even kissed her?"

"Dude, you know what happens when I try."

"I know, but…do you _wish_ you could kiss her?"

"Well yeah." What kind of a question was that?

"Why?"

"I don't know. Jeez what's with all the questions?"

"No reason."

Kyle blushed.

"Hey, you know what?" Stan asked.

"What?"

"I think I might actually try."

"Well yeah, it's about time too."

"But I've never kissed anyone before. I probably suck at it too."

"You wanna practice then?" Kyle laughed as he pointed to one of Stan's pillows on his bed.

Stan laughed too.

"Believe me, I've tried. I don't know…you can't get really get anything from pillows."

"You could always…" Kyle trailed off, blushing.

"What?"

"Never mind, I'm pretty sure it's out of the question anyway."

"No seriously, tell me."

"Well I don't know…you can always…uh…practiceonme."

Kyle closed his eyes, waiting for Stan's ridiculing laughter. It didn't come. He opened his eyes.

"That doesn't really sound bad at all. On one condition though."

"Hm?"

"Eric Cartman can never find out about this."

Kyle laughed.

"Ok, then."

Both boys took a deep breath and stared into each other's eyes.

It was unintentional, but as they stared deeper their faces became closer, until their lips locked.

The kiss lasted a little over a minute until Kyle broke it, gasping for air.

"Stanley Randall Marsh," Kyle breathed, "what the hell are you talking about, saying you can't kiss?"

"Hah, you actually enjoyed that?" Stan teased.

Kyle blushed harder, feeling stupid.

"N-no. I'm just saying…I think you're ready to kiss her. She would really like that."

"Yeah." Stan stared off for a while. "Well, I'm really tired so let's turn off the lights now, k?"

"Ok. G'night Stan."

"G'night Kyle."

Thank God it was dark. Kyle couldn't help by smile as certain thoughts ran through his head.

XX

Ugh. That was lame . I'm sorry.


	5. Cherry Stems

Mana here. This is really short. I got the idea from watching Drake and Josh. I kinda had to smile as I wrote the end.

Cherry Stems

It was Saturday and it was raining.

_This sucks,_ Stan thought. Today he was supposed to teach Kyle how to play football so the guys at school won't call him a pussy during recess.

Regardless, he still went to the Jew's house to see if he could hang with him.

"Hey dude, what's up?" Stan asked as he came up to Kyle's bedroom.

"Studying," Kyle said nonchalantly. He was at his desk, copying down information from books.

"Boring."

Stan took a seat on Kyle's bed and laid down. Why would anyone bother studying on a Saturday? He was already the smartest kid in his class. Who the hell did he need to compete with?

He sighed as he turned over on his bed. Maybe coming here was a waste of time.

But then he saw a glass bowl on Kyle's desk with little red fruits. Cherries!

He walked over to take a closer look. Fresh cherries. Even better.

"Hey dude, take a break for a while," Stan took the bowl back to the bed with him.

Wood hit his desk as Kyle dropped his pencil.

"Ok. I was done anyway."

"Suuure."

Kyle laid back on his bed and took a cherry. Stan could help but smile as his watched his friend enjoy the delightful fruit. He took one himself. Delicious.

He didn't know what to do with the pit so he spit it at Kyle to see what would happen.

"What the hell?"

Ok, never mind.

"Sorry 'bout that."

Silence.

"Hey Kyle, I bet you couldn't tie a cherry stem with your tongue."

Kyle raised an eyebrow.

"Why would I want to?"

Stan shrugged. He put a cherry stem in his mouth and ten seconds later it was tied.

Kyle scoffed at it.

"Psh. That doesn't look too hard."

"Oh yeah? First one who finishes wins."

They both took cherry stems and tried to work them into knots. Kyle managed to finish first.

"See? Piece of cake."

"Yeah…I guess."

Stan got an idea.

"It might be true, but with your case, I don't think so."

"What?"

"You know, they say that if you could tie a cherry stem with your tongue, you're a good kisser."

Kyle flipped his head back. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, but I doubt you're any good. You haven't kissed anyone yet, have you?"

"I can so kiss!"

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

Kyle blushed. He took a deep breath and smashed his lips onto Stan's.

Stan gasped as tongue met tongue, but he played along with it. Just to humor his friend. But then everything just melted away until he was reduced to small little moans, following the small noises from the deep recesses of the sweet Jew's mouth.

Stan broke the kiss, gasping for breath.

"Well?" Kyle looked over to see Stan blushing madly.

"Jesus Christ, I was so fucking wrong.

XX

I do like reviews. Just so y'all know.


	6. Bees

Mana here. I wrote this in PE today. Yeah, I've never been stung by a bee before, so I don't know if I'm allergic or not. I hate bees, and I think they're really, really scary. So…please enjoy.

Bees

Stan had always hated bees. They're mean little bastards, he'd say. He had never gotten stung by one, so he doesn't know if he's allergic or not.

That made them a thousand times scarier.

After school on Wednesday Kyle decided to take Stan over to Stark's Pond just to chill.

"I'm bored," Stan sighed.

"Hey, let's see how high we can throw rocks at that tree over there," Kyle suggested.

"Sure."

Anything will do right now.

Stan threw a rock up at the higher branch; he was always good when it comes to height.

Kyle on the other hand, didn't throw quite as high, but when it came to shooting holes in the leaves with rocks, he was on top of that.

This event out of boredom came to be the funnest thing they've thought of all day.

Then Kyle threw a rock, but it didn't make a swishy sound like it would if it hit the leaves.

They stayed silent for a while, waiting to see what would happen next.

Something wasn't right; unless it wasn't the leaves he had hit.

Then came the buzzing sound.

Stan's heart rate accelerated.

_Shit._

"Kyle you hit a fucking hive!"

"Run!" Kyle yelled.

Kyle proceeded forward but then Stan lunged at him, knocking him to the ground.

"GET DOWN!"

He tried his best to cover his friend with his entire body. Soon enough, the bees began to make their blows.

Stan yelped as the first sting landed on his tender neck.

He clutched harder onto Kyle as more pricks followed, mostly on his back.

"Fuck," he grunted through tears of pain, "FUCK!!"

The bees continued to show no mercy.

"OW GODDAMMIT!!!"

Time flew and so did the bees. Soon enough the stinging decimated until they were completely gone.

Stan's grip on Kyle loosed. Kyle wriggled out from under Stan's weight.

"What the FUCK were you thinking Stan?" Kyle's face was red and tears had fallen down his cheeks.

"You—" Stan panted, "you can't outrun bees. T-they'll chase you a-and g-get p-p-pissed off."

"I know! But you…I thought you where scared of bees."

"Yeah," Stan sat up, cringing, "I am. They're mean bastards. Ow."

Kyle took Stan's jacket and shirt off to examine his back. It was red and bumpy and he could feel the barbed stingers poking out as he ran his hand across.

"Oh, Stan," Kyle whispered through tears.

"Kyle," Stan breathed.

"Yes?"

"Hell's Pass. Now."

And then he fainted.

-Three days later-

Stan had survived the assault, but was subjected to baking soda baths for the next couple weeks. It wasn't terribly uncomfortable, but his mom had to give them to him, so it was slightly awkward.

And because his back was still numbed by all the venom from the stingers, he had to have it rubbed to get the feeling back. It was a good thing Kyle was there every night to do so.

XX

I realize that given Stan's situation in real life, he would have died. So don't go pissing off bees, ok?

REVIEWS GREATLY ACCEPTED :3


	7. Balls

Mana here. I just got back from San Francisco, and I wrote this in the hotel last night. It's one is kinda a lot longer than the rest (yay) except it's poorly written and I turned Kyle's character into a bitch. I'm sorry! I just re-read this and I thought…aww reviewers are gonna hate me! And Cartman's probably a little out of character as well (is he? Not sure…I don't know, this isn't the way Cartman would speak…I think.) Ah well, I do like the story though. I hope you guys will to.

Balls

Every so often, Mr. Garrison would give the class math quizzes to evaluate what they've learned. And almost all the time, Cartman and Kyle would get into arguments about who'd get the higher score.

"Cartman you're never gonna get higher than me on this quiz so shut up!"

Kyle always got the highest scores on any given test, and Cartman always convinced himself that one day he'd beat that Jew boy at his own game.

"Well you know what? Maybe I actually studied this time! Mahm gave me practice quizzes yesterday so I'm bet I could beat you!"

Kyle scoffed. The possibility of that ever happening was zero to none.

"Are you scared, Kahl?"

Making bets with Cartman was a waste of time for him. But just so he can shut up, he decided to comply. He'd win regardless.

"Ok, fine," said Kyle, "what are the conditions?"

"If I beat you, you have to suck my balls."

Typical Cartman.

"And if I win?"

"Then I'll shut up about you being Jewish and all that crap."

"Ok, deal. I can live with that."

This would be so freaking sweet.

Garrison passed out the quizzes; Kyle looked over it and to him, it was a piece of cake. He always scored high A's, especially in math.

-time passes-

Mr. Garrison had taken all of lunch period to grade the quizzes and when everyone returned to class he handed them out.

Kyle got his back. Ninety-eight percent.

Sweet.

"Hey, fatass! I guess I win!" Kyle waved his graded quiz at Cartman.

"Psh, stupid Jew."

Mr. Garrison handed Cartman back his quiz.

Kyle took a look to see what he got.

Both their jaws dropped at the same time.

One hundred percent.

Kyle let out a stream of profanities. Jesus Christ! This was fucking Eric Cartman, Goddammit!!

"Kyle Broflovski," said Cartman softly.

"W-what?"

"SUCK MY BALLS!"

The whole class turned to stare at them. Kyle looked like he was about to cry.

"Eric, sit down and shut up," Mr. Garrison didn't care about the little dramas that went on with the students.

During PE, Kyle was too miserable to play dodge ball with the rest of the class.

How the hell could that fatass get a higher score than him?

Not only did he feel stupider by the minute, but he had to pay the price by—

NO! He mustn't think about that.

"Hey dude," Stan was apparently hit out and took a seat next to Kyle.

Kyle sighed and buried his face in his knees.

"You look terrible," Stan rubbed Kyle's back gently.

"Dude this fucking sucks!"

"Hey, don't worry about it. I lost a bet to Cartman once and had to eat dirt." Stan made a face.

"Lucky."

"Well, I guess. But man, I'm sorry."

"I don't wanna do this, Stan! I feel sick just thinking about it."

Then Stan got an idea.

"Hey Kyle, we look alike, don't we?"

Save for hair, Stan and Kyle had just about the same body shape, skin tone, and eyes. (A/N I'm using the actual South Park animation style here in this description.)

Kyle knew what he was thinking.

"Oh. My. God. Stan, that is out of the question."

"C'mon dude, I can't stand seeing you so down."

"Fuck no. I won't let you do this for me. It's my battle."

"You're my super best friend. As lame as it sounds, we're supposed to look out for each other, and I say we trade clothes and I'll suck Cartman's balls so you won't have to."

"Goddammit Stan, I said no!"

"Hey Kaaaahl," Cartman called him from across the gym and thrusted his pelvis at him.

Kyle shuddered.

"I'll make you owe me," said Stan quickly, desperate to save his friend.

"How much?"

"You do my homework for an entire trimester. And somehow get Garrison's tests before hand and tell me the answers."

"Fuck you, Stan. But that sounds fair."

PE had ended and the boys quickly dressed in each other's clothes and switched hats.

No one could tell the difference.

"Goddammit, Stan." Kyle blushed.

"Don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

He put an arm to Kyle's shoulder to make him feel better.

Cartman wobbled over to Stan, who was dressed in Kyle's attire, and smacked his butt.

"Six-o-clock, my place. Got that Jew?"

"I'll be there," Stan attempted Kyle's voice, "don't get a heart attack, fatass."

"AY!" He said as he left.

Stan and Kyle decided to also switch households for the rest of the day, but agreed to sleep over at Stan's house and then make the switch. This also gave Stan the opportunity to practice being Kyle before he has to go to Cartman's.

"Hey, Mrs. Brof—er, mom?"

"Yes, bubbi?"

Odd enough, his impersonation somehow convinced her.

"I'm gonna sleep over at Stan's tonight."

"Well, since you did so well on the math quiz, you deserve it."

She leaned over and kissed his forehead, which he found slightly awkward; it was weird getting a kiss from your best friend's mom.

Butterflies danced wildly in Stan's stomach as he dragged his feet over to Cartman's.

_Do it for Kyle_, he scolded in his head, _do it for Kyle, Goddammit._

After what seemed like forever, he reached his house.

"Why Kahl, so nice of you to drop by," said Cartman sarcastically, "won't you step out of the cold and come inside?"

"Fuck you, Cartman."

"Oooh, let's not waste our mouth energy with meager insults, dear Jew."

Stan kept a low growl in his throat as Cartman led him to his room.

"I've prepared everything for this special event."

He turned on what appeared to be a webcam hooked up to his computer.

"Don't mind that," Cartman waved a fat had over to the webcam, "I just want the world to witness this fine moment."

Stan gulped nervously.

"Now, kneel riiight here," he pointed to a tape X he made on the floor.

Stan proceeded unwillingly.

"Now then," Cartman stepped in front of him, his crotch to his face, "I've waited all my life for this, Kyle Broflovski."

Cartman began to unzip his pants. Stan was regretting this decision as loud as he could in his head, but stayed strong.

_DO IT FOR KYLE! DO IT FOR KYLE! DO IT FOR KYLE!_

"Begin,"

Stan took a deep breath and opened his mouth.

Meanwhile, Kyle was having dinner with the Marshes, who suspected nothing.

But still, he felt like a dick for making his best friend in the whole world take the blow for him (no pun intended.)

"Stanley, you've barely touched your mashed potatoes," Stan's mother patted his back, "is something the matter, sweetie?"

"No, er, Mom," said Kyle in a Stan-like voice, "I just failed a math quiz, that's all."

That would be a Stan thing to say.

"Oh, that's ok Stanley, but do try harder next time."

It was very seldom Kyle didn't get in trouble for failing, so he smiled.

"I'll do my best, mom."

Stan's mom looked a bit confused at "Stan's" sudden politeness, but decided that that's probably not gonna last so take advantage of it.

"Mom, may I please be excused? And may I take some ice cream back to my room?"

"Of course, sweetie."

Sweet.

Kyle scooped rocky road ice cream into two bowls, knowing Stan would probably be back soon.

On cue, Stan had climbed the window into his room, where he found Kyle sitting on his bed, eating ice cream.

"Hey!" Kyle's face lit up, "how'd it go?"

Stan threw up on his carpet.

"Ew."

"Sorry, I'll clean that."

A few moments later his room was clean and he had joined Kyle on his bed and eating ice cream.

"That bad, huh?"

Stan shook his head.

"Dude. Never ever ever EVER make bets with Cartman again EVER. You hear me, Kyle?"

Stan's face went green as images for earlier danced in his head.

Kyle leaned over and gave him a hug.

"I'm so sorry. I fucking love you, Stanley Marsh."

Color returned to his face as he returned his hug.

"But you remember my condition, right?"

"Already did tonight's."

"Then I love you too, Kyle Broflovski."

XX

Well the ending was kinda sweet. Ish. Don't hate me! I won't make Kyle into a dick again! I love Kyle…sorry I just had to say that. Well then, can I have some reviews?


	8. Rain

Mana here. Ugh this kinda sucks. It's been raining by my place, so I just had to write it down, but I did so poorly. Ah well, hope you enjoy.

I like rain, by the way.

Rain

Three-o-clock struck and Mr. Garrison dismissed his students, who were appreciative to be let out. It was Friday, and the beginning of a three-day weekend due to a teacher's conference on Monday.

"Goddammit," Kyle mumbled when he saw the sky.

It was raining again.

Kyle never liked the rain. Rain meant moisture in the air, which made his Jew fro more poofy than usual. It meant that when he walked outside the bottoms of his pants would get muddy, which can be an annoying inconvenience. It meant that his mom would barricade him inside the house for fear of him getting sick.

And it meant he'd get wet.

But to his delight, he did have an umbrella. It was one of those tiny ones that were the size of reading-eyeglasses cases. The kind that fits in a girl's pencil case. And then when one actually opened it, it would mysteriously be the same size as a normal umbrella.

He opened it and breathed in relief. He'd get to walk home nice and dry.

"Hey dude wanna come over to my house?" Stan caught up with his best friend.

Stan on the other had did enjoy the rain. He was the kind of guy who was game for playing football while the sky was pouring its guts out.

Kyle eyed his friend's body; it hadn't even been five minutes but his clothes were already damp.

He motioned for him to come under his umbrella with him.

"Nah, I don't like umbrellas."

"Dude you're gonna get sick."

"No I won't."

"You watch."

Stan shrugged but continued to walk alongside Kyle, outside of shelter.

Kyle watched as Stan walked happily through the rain. They've already arrived at Stark's Pond and it looked like Stan had fallen in the pond. His was now thoroughly soaked and his hair stuck nicely to his face. It made him smile a little.

He always managed to look good.

But that smile faltered when Stan decided it would be fun to jump in puddles.

"Dude, stop that!" Kyle wiped some of the water off of his front.

"I'm bored," Stan jumped in another puddle, creating a splash that hit Kyle square in the face.

Stan laughed as Kyle wiped his face with his gloved hand and let out a few curse words.

"No but seriously, I am so bored. Let's play tag or something."

"No."

Stan turned to look at him.

"I-I mean, let's just go home."

"Are you scared of rain, Kyle?"

Kyle blushed.

"No! I just don't like it."

"Why not?"

Kyle shrugged.

"I just don't ok?"

Stan walked up to him.

"Stan?"

Stan took Kyle's hands and put them down, causing him to drop his umbrella.

Kyle winced as he felt the raindrops hit his pale face.

"Stan what the—"

"No. Just stand here for a sec."

Kyle tried to get his umbrella back up and save himself from getting wet even further.

But Stan kept his vice grip on Kyle's hand. He stared into his eyes in a piercing stare, which made him give up the struggle.

Kyle's hair, whatever was peaking from under his hat, became flat like Stan's and stuck to his face in the same manner.

"Well?" Stan asked.

"Well what?"

"You didn't die."

"Ugh, this is so ridiculous! Let's just go home."

Kyle tried again to break free but Stan was still stronger.

"LET GO OF ME!!"

Stan obeyed. But because Kyle had been pulling hard to escape, the sudden release sent him crashing to the wet ground.

Kyle gasped. How the hell could he do that to him?

"Dude, what the fuck?"

Stan laughed.

"You are such a pussy."

He reached his hand over to Kyle to help him up, but he should have known better. Kyle pulled him down with him and a small wrestling match erupted.

Minutes later they lay alongside each other gasping for breath.

"Dude, I'm getting wet," said Kyle after minutes have passed.

"Shut up. You're already wet."

"Let's just go home."

Stan got up first and then helped Kyle up.

"Sorry, I just had to do that. To see your face."

"Oh yeah? How was it?"

"Well, pretty freaking hilarious. Sorry about that."

"Yeah."

They continued to walk silently to Stan's house.

"Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I can start to like the rain now."

XXX

So the ending is pretty much a train wreck. And I accidentally made everyone out of character to an extent. Regardless, I still hope to get some awesome reviews, and I promise to write better next time.


	9. Marshmallows

Mana here. When I was 8 and 9 years old I was scared of fire, so this fic seems somewhat appropriate. My old house had a fire place that my dad always took advantage of, and I was always freaking out when he'd throw a log in and thousands of sparks would fly up. And today I lit a candle and roasted marshmallows, so that's what gave me the inspiration for this. Hope you enjoy.

Marshmallows

Stan hates fire. Fire was hot and it ate people's houses.

Stan's parents went out, leaving him at home alone. There was a thunderstorm outside, which knocked out the power, so his parents lit up the fireplace for him. They were stupid too, and forgot to put the fire screen on so that sparks won't fly out into the living room.

This pretty much scared the shit out of him, so he sat as far away as possible, yet in eye distance, to make sure nothing catches on fire.

He watched as little tiny sparks ascended to the mantel. They could set the place on fire any minute.

A log fell over and Stan yelled "OH JESUS CHRIST" as thousands of sparks released themselves into the environment.

He leaped out of the couch and filled a large saucepan with water in the kitchen, just in case things got out of hand. Garrison was lecturing the class about fire safety, and he said it was best to put a fire out with water rather than blowing on it. Because blowing a fire just makes it worse.

He went back to watching the fire.

It danced around menacingly, kind of like the Sirens, if the Sirens dance rather than sing. It was so tantalizing, and he wanted it to stop.

A knock came at the door, and he jumped a little, but proceeded in answering it.

It was Kyle.

"Hey dude," said Kyle, "the power's out at my place and I'm bored. Can I join you?"

"Sure."

Well if Kyle would be around, things wouldn't seem so bad.

"It totally sucks ass we can't watch TV," said Stan as they got back to the couch.

"Yeah, and the Terrance and Philip special's on tonight too."

"Aww weak."

Another log fell in the fire place, making a crashing sound and then a hiss as more sparks were released.

"SHIT!" Stan jumped.

"Oh hey, you've got the fire on," Kyle just noticed the orange flames, "sweet."

Then Kyle got an idea.

"Stay here," he got up and went into Stan's kitchen. Kyle knew Stan's kitchen more than anyone, since he was always over.

Stan wondered what was up. Seconds later he came back with bamboo kebab sticks and a bag of marshmallows that they had bought when they did a project together involving marshmallows.

Kyle motioned Stan to sit in front of the fire place with him. His stomach lurched. He did like marshmallows and all, but he was scared of roasting them.

"This is gonna be sweet," said Kyle as his stuck a marshmallow on the bamboo.

Stan did the same, but slowly. Kyle already stuck his in the flames.

"C'mon dude, you have to put it in the fire," Kyle's marshmallow was already slightly brown, "it cooks faster that way."

Stan moved his arm toward the flames just a smidgen. Kyle shrugged and continued with his roasting.

He could feel the heat radiating to the front of his body. It was kinda nice, seeing as the heater in the house broke down a couple weeks ago. He decided to move his arm to the fire just a little more. Kyle was ok, so maybe he would be as well.

Then Kyle withdrew his marshmallow. It was on fire, sprouting very large flames.

"HOLY SHIT DUDE!!"

Stan took the pot filled with water he kept beside him and flung it at Kyle and the flaming marshmallow.

"WHAT THE FUCK???"

The fire hissed as it evaporated the fire droplets that came into contact. Kyle was dripping and the marshmallow he was roasting had lost its roasted awesomeness.

"I just saved your life Kyle!"

"What?"

"You were about to be burned alive!"

"No I wasn't!"

"Yeah! If I didn't put the fire out you'd die."

"Well yeah, any dumbass knows that."

Kyle wriggled out of his soaked jacket.

"I was just about to blow on it."

"No! That doesn't work! If you blow on it, it's gonna get worse."

"Dude, I've done it before. It's fine."

Kyle took Stan's marshmallow and held it to the flames. He pulled it out seconds later, and it was on fire.

"Calm down, Stan," Stan was freaking out.

Kyle blew on the marshmallow, and the flame disappeared.

"See?"

Stan took back the marshmallow.

"Now you try."

He moved it toward the fire, wincing as the air around it got hotter.

He pulled his hand back.

"Here."

Kyle took Stan's hand and guided it over to the flames.

"D-don't let go," said Stan quietly.

Kyle manipulated Stan's hand, to turn the marshmallow so it can get roasted on all sides. He pulled back his hand, and the marshmallow was on fire.

"Blow on it."

Stan proceeded, and the flame went out in one puff.

"There, you see?" Kyle took another marshmallow from the bag and stuck it in the fire, "it's easy."

"Yeah. Thanks Kyle."

He put the roasted marshmallow in his mouth, and all melted in a sweet, sugary bliss.

Stan now took another marshmallow from the bag and skewered it over the fire, this time not afraid of holding back.

XX

Well, that wasn't so bad. I felt I should have done more with it, but it's good.

I don't think Stan's house has a fire place in the show.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I'm thankful for reviews…lol.


	10. War

Mana here. I just watched the kidney episode and got this idea. It's pretty vague, but it's cute. More ideas than actions.

War

Stan and Kyle have arrived at the village on assignment. It was a desolate village, but the general had told them that insurgents were hiding out there, and they had to be exterminated.

Stan, who was strapped with extra ammunitions, had an AK in one hand and a grenade in the other. Kyle also had an AK and an ammo belt, but also the flag of Israel draped on his shoulders.

"Dude, we have to be careful," said Stan quietly, "those bastards could be anywhere."

Kyle nodded in agreement.

It was very quiet, but they kept their guard.

Then, BANG.

Both boys jumped up. The insurgents had sprung out in ambush.

Stan fired at them and killed a couple.

Sweet.

More gunshots fired in their direction, so they fired back.

A grenade came their direction, landing in front of Kyle.

"SHIT KYLE!!"

The Jew was blasted about twenty feet from where he stood. Stan fired back, killing the rest of the group.

Then he ran over to where Kyle was lying.

"Dude, are you ok?"

Kyle grunted a response. He was covered in blood and there was a gash in his stomach.

"Kyle! Say something dammit!"

He didn't respond.

"Son of a bitch."

The village dissolved into what appeared to be a normal bedroom. Stan's bedroom.

Stan took off the virtual reality helmet he was wearing, as did Kyle.

"Goddammit Kyle, you suck," Stan punched Kyle in the arm, "you have to stop dying or we'll never get anywhere."

"Sorry! My mom never lets me play video games so I'm not good like you."

"But you should at least know how to defend yourself!"

"Yeah, sorry. I won't die next time."

Stan went up to the TV to check the statistics.

"How long was that?"

"Uh," Stan looked over at the TV screen that displayed a warzone and statistics, "seven minutes."

"Sweet. At least it was longer than last time," Kyle took a seat on Stan's bed, "You're Uncle Jimbo's so cool to get you that game."

"Yeah. He's all into war and shooting and stuff and I guess he wants me to be too."

"Neat."

There was a knock on the door, and Stan's mother entered.

"I made cookies and hot chocolate for you guys," she smiled.

"Sweet! Thanks mom!"

Kyle and Stan rushed downstairs and immediately greeted by the scent of freshly baked cookies.

"Your mom makes the best cookies ever," said Kyle as he happily bit into a soft chocolate chip.

"Yeah."

Silence.

"Hey Stan?"

"Yeah?

"If we were really in a war, and I really did die, what would you do?"

Stan stayed quiet. The thought of losing his best friend was very painful. He almost did lose him on very many occasions.

"Stan?"

He snapped back to reality.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"What would you do if I got killed by terrorists?"

"Dude, you're my best friend. I don't want you to die until I do."

Kyle smiled.

"That sounds familiar."

He recalled the incident where Stan had tricked Cartman into giving up his kidney to save his life.

Stan blushed. "Y-yeah. Well it's true."

Silence.

"What would you do, Kyle?"

Kyle took a sip of his hot chocolate.

"Hmm?"

"If I was gonna die. What would you do?"

Kyle thought for a moment. There hadn't been any instances where Kyle had almost lost Stan, so he came up with the most logical response.

"Well, I'd think of a way where we'd end up together, of course."

Stan got up and hugged his best friend.

"Sounds good to me."

XX

Nice. Reviews?


	11. Apples

Mana here. This is shorter than what I usually write. Sorry bout that. I wasn't sure if I wanted to write this or not. But it wouldn't leave my head, so I figured I might as well go with it if I want to think up better fics. I'm not sure if I got this idea from another fic or if I thought of it on my own. If it's someone else's idea, I'm sorry, and full credits go to you.

Apples

"Ay Kinney you can't have that apple because you're poor!"

It was autumn in South Park, which meant that the apple tree in Kyle's backyard began to bear fruit. The apples were a lovely mixture of red and gold, and they were absolutely delicious.

Kyle, Stan, Cartman and Kenny took that afternoon in Kyle's backyard, enjoying the awesomeness of the fresh harvest. Kyle and Kenny munched happily at the red fruit and Stan was chilling under the tree. And as usual, Cartman was being a greedy bastard, claiming all the good apples to himself.

"Shut up fatass," said Kyle as he handed Kenny an apple, "take as much as you'd like Kenny. Bring some home with you too."

"WOO HOO!"

Kenny grabbed as many apples as he could from the tree and stuffed them inside his orange parka.

"Mehhhh," Cartman whined, "he's taking too much!"

"Like you need any more food going straight to your humongous ass."

"AY! I am really getting pissed off Kahl."

"Dude, just chill," Stan looked up from his rest and taking an apple next to him, "these are good. And Kyle's right. Your ass is already huge. Save some for the ones who deserve them."

"You know what fine!" Cartman bit off the half of a particularly large apple, chewing and swallowing it, "you guys suck! I'm gonna eat them all so you don't get any!"

Kyle and Stan restrained themselves from laughing as Cartman finished off the entire apple, core and all.

"Eww." Kyle grimaced at Cartman eating the core.

"Don't worry about it," Stan took another bite from his apple, "when you get as fat as him, everything pretty much tastes the same (A/N fat joke I made with my friend when we were at this Italian restaurant.)."

Kyle laughed.

"Shut up fags!" Cartman took a bunch more apples his fat little arms could carry and stood up, "I'm tired of this. Screw you guys, I'm going home."

And he left.

"What a fatass," Stan took another bite, "but these are really good."

"Yeah. My dad does something to the trees in spring to make the fruits taste better. I think."

"Sweet."

Stan got to the core of his apple, but didn't feel like throwing it away. He was already comfortable in his spot under the tree, so he decided to do as Cartman did and eat it.

"Dude what are you doing?" Kyle looked over at him as he proceeded in biting the core in half.

"Hm? I don't wanna get up."

"Don't you know?" Kyle took the core from Stan and threw it to the side, "apple seeds have a little cyanide in them."

"Oh crap, do they?" Stan spit out the piece he had already bitten off.

"Yeah. That's why they taste like almonds."

"Damn. Thanks for that." He patted Kyle on the arm as a thanks.

"Well, you're my best friend. I don't want you to die from something stupid."

He gave Kyle a hug, which he gladly returned.

"Wait," said Stan, "what about Cartman? He's gonna eat all those apples whole."

Kyle thought for a second.

"Screw him."

They laughed in harmony and sat under the apple tree for the rest of that afternoon.

XX

Well. It didn't go as I planned, but I liked the way it turned out. Very much.


	12. Studying

Mana here. I wrote this a long time ago when I wasn't sure if I wanted to post this or not. But then I decided to. This isn't so much as a slash fic as much as it is a simple Stan bashing fic. It's fun to bash Stan! Sorry, evil moment.

Studying

"Stanley I have had it!"

Stan looked up from his video game. His mother was glaring at him with one of his quizzes in her hand.

"If you don't get above a 50% on your next test, I'm taking your X-box away, you hear?"

"Yeah."

The next day they guys gathered around Kyle's desk while Stan sat at his, reading a Terrance and Philip comic book.

"Goddammit Kahl," said Cartman, "how the hell do you keep getting 100's on your tests?"

"How do you think, asswipe?"

"Don't try to get out of this Jew! Now what the hell's your secret?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed.

"You really wanna know?"

Stan looked up from his comic. This could maybe save him.

"Ok, you get up at 2am, jog for an hour to Stark's Pond, swim in the pond with your clothes on and then sit under the tree without sleeping. Next day, guaranteed perfect score."

Cartman scoffed.

"Lying sack of shit."

_That does sound like a bunch of crap,_ Stan thought.

Then he looked at the graded quiz Mr. Garrison had handed back.

Fifty percent with a frowny face.

Maybe he really should review the material before taking a test. But then again, he had seen Cartman do it but he got a 30%.

Kyle's strategy seemed totally retarded.

But he always did get A's. And he was the smartest kid in the fourth grade.

…

His X-Box was at stake. He had to do it.

Stan's alarm clock went off at 2am, as planned. He rolled over to try to get back to sleep, but forced himself awake.

_I have to get an A on this._

He left his house and began jogging. It felt good racing against the cold, snowy air.

Thirty minutes had passed and he got tired. But he had to keep going.

For the safety of his video game privileges.

One hour had finally passed and he arrived at Stark's Pond.

The water was slightly frozen but easy enough to break. He walked slowly inside, swearing to himself about how his clothes would freeze over on him.

Pain. Each floating shard of the ice was like a needle prick when it so much as brushed a part of his clothed body.

He began to swim. Slowly.

It would all be worth it.

Two hours have passed and he got out. He shivered violently but went on to the next step.

Just chill under the tree for the rest of the night. This should be easy, seeing that it required no physical activity.

But he found it a lot harder that it had initially sounded. After using up all this energy with the earlier tasks, he was dead tired.

But he had to stay awake.

The sun finally came out. Stan groaned. So tired. But he would ace that math test. That's all that mattered.

He got to his seat without saying a word to anyone.

"Ok class, you may begin," Mr. Garrison handed out the tests.

Perfect.

He wrote the answers in, hand shaking.

First one done.

Brilliant.

Soon everyone had finished, and Mr. Garrison had allowed a five minute break so he can grade the tests.

Kyle walked over to Stan.

"Hey dude," he took a seat on his desk, "you look terrible."

Stan yawned. "mmmmstudying."

"Wow, so how do you think you did?"

"Probably aced it. That was one rough night."

Mr. Garrison handed back the tests. Stan got his back.

Twenty-five percent with a "redo" written in red ink.

"Aw, what the fuck???"

Kyle took the test from him.

"I thought you said you studied."

"I did. I did exactly what you said."

"What?"

"Yesterday when you told Cartman how you study for tests."

"WHAT? That?"

He burst out laughing.

"I was being sarcastic! You'd think I'd really tell fucking Cartman how I study?"

"Sh-shut up," Stan blushed.

"You-oh my God! I can't believe you fell for that!"

More laughter.

Mr. Garrison gave Kyle back his quiz.

One hundred percent, as always.

"I fucking hate you so much Kyle."

Stan keeled over on his desk, passed out.

Kyle rubbed his back.

"You're just a dumbass. That's all."

XX

Guys, don't actually study in this manner. You will DIE. But you already know that.

I promise there will by more Stan x Kyle action in the future! And for Camaleao, I'm working on that Style + Kenny one and it will be AWESOME. Thanks for your reviews too! They really get me going 3


	13. Cupcakes

Mana here. Well I've thought about this one for a while and it's been plaguing me for weeks, so I decided to write it out. Some awesome Style along with Kenny, yay! You guys will probably get cavities after this, so I recommend scheduling your appointments sometime soon.

This is gonna be a lil longer than other stuff I've written, so enjoy!

Cupcakes

During snow storms Kyle's mom was the bitchiest. She barricaded him inside, for fear of him catching a cold.

The worst part was, he didn't understand why his parents had the nerve to go out while they told him to stay inside.

It didn't make sense, but he complied, to avoid another verbal beating by his mother.

So he had nothing to do but settle on making cupcakes.

It wasn't the manliest thing to do in your spare time, and especially because he had found the recipies from his mom's cooking magazine, but he was hungry. For sweets.

He mixed the necessary ingredients in the bowl with ease; it was the Pillsbury mix, which made life a lot quicker and easier. He poured the mixture into the cupcake pan and set it in the oven, timed to fifteen minutes.

He pulled out a clean bowl and more ingredients to make the frosting when a knock came at the door.

He answered it.

"Yes?"

Stan and Kenny.

"Hey we're going sledding," said Stan, "wanna come?"

"I can't. I'm not allowed out."

"Lame." Stan sniffed the air coming from the inside of the house. "What smells good?"

"Oh. Cupcakes," said Kyle, "wanna help me make the frosting?"

"Aw sweet dude."

Stan and Kenny let themselves inside, taking in the baking scent.

Kyle led them to the kitchen, where he had prepared to mix the frosting.

He mixed the red food coloring in, resulting in a sweet pink color. He began to mix it with his mom's mixer, because it went faster than mixing it by hand.

But the mixer was a little heavy and somewhat difficult for a nine-year old to control, so it newly mixed frosting had splattered all over him.

"Goddammit," he mumbled.

Stan let out a soft chuckle as he watched his friend being attacked by the pink cream.

Kyle put the mixer down and looked at his reflection through the toaster oven. His face was adorned with little wisps of frosting.

Before he stepped down from the stool to wash up he felt his arm being grabbed at.

"Hm?"

Kenny had gripped him firmly and licked off some of the frosting from his cheek.

"AHHHHH!" Kyle fell over in shock and screamed, "What the hell?"

Stan looked up from his stupor and saw Kyle sprawled on the floor, horrorstruck, with Kenny's tongue on his face.

"Hey that actually turned out pretty good!" Kenny proceeded in licking more frosting off the Jew's face.

"Oh my God that's gross Kenny!" Kyle's face became white.

He tried to get up but Kenny had a firm hold on him.

Stan approached the two and grabbed Kyle from Kenny's grasp.

He ran his tongue from a frosting-covered patch on Kyle's other cheek.

"Oh my God dude! That is good!"

He cleaned off that side of Kyle's face and proceeded on the rest when Kenny grabbed him back.

"Come on dude I barely had any!"

He proceeded in licking the rest of the frosting while Stan tried to get him back.

"Goddammit Kenny I wasn't done yet!"

They fought for the Jew while he continued to lie there in shock.

A few moments passed and he was relatively frosting free when he regained feeling.

"What the hell you guys?" He gasped, "that's disgusting !"

He got up from the kitchen floor in hopes of going to the sink to wash his face off from Stan's and Kenny's spit.

Seriously, how could he two best friends do that to him?"

He put his hand on the counter to feel for the sink (being a short 9-year old the counter was menacingly tall).

He couldn't feel for it so he pulled his hands back, but in the process felt something topple over.

The bowl of frosting hit him square in the face.

"AW GODDAMMIT!" He screamed.

A second later the bowl was replaced with Stan and Kenny licking madly at the pink goop that coated his face and neck.

"Guys seriously! Stop!" Kyle wriggled in protest but of no avail.

He screams were later turned into ticklish laughs as the boys advanced to his neck.

Minutes later his face was clean again and Stan and Kenny sat on the floor, looking satisfied with themselves.

"Dude you make the best frosting ever!" said Stan.

"You guys are assholes," Kyle said quietly, appearing hurt.

Kenny crawled over to him and put an arm around him.

"Sorry about that. We were just screwing around."

"No, I mean I didn't even get to try any, you bastards!"

"Well, we could always make more," said Kenny slowly, "I mean, we still gotta frost the cupcakes, right?"

"Yeah," Kyle got up from the floor, "but one thing."

"Hm?"

"Stan gets to mix it this time."

He and Kenny smirked at Stan, who sighed, predicting what was about to happen next.

XX

There! Actually I'm a little proud of this one. Frosting is awesome.


	14. Hospital

Mana here. OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I'M GETTING MY WISDOM TEETH REMOVED TOMORROW!! I'm scared. I love hospitals, but I'm scared of when they put the IV into me…my sister said it's like they shove it into your arm and it hurts but you know what, I'm gonna fight it. This fic was inspired of me going to the hospital tomorrow. This is gonna suck, but I promise you better ones in the future…near future. It's break so I got lots of time.

Hospital

Today should have been a normal day. Should have been. But Kyle wasn't in class today.

Stan sighed. Today would be boring without his super best friend.

Where the hell was he anyway? He did always get sick a lot, so Stan decided to put it at that.

School ended, and Stan decided to go over to the Broflovski house, to see what was up with Kyle. He rang the doorbell and was greeted at the sight of a borderline hysterical Sheila.

"Umm," he refused to meet her eye, feeling awkward, "is Kyle home?"

"Kyle is at the hospital," Sheila said tearfully.

Stan's stomach flipped. Hospital?

"Is he ok?"

"He came down with a severe case of pneumonia."

Shit. Pneumonia's bad, right?

Stan mentally kicked himself in the balls for insisting Kyle to go out in the rain all that week and play football with him. He already had a hint of a cold but figured that it would just pass. Kyle got enough colds to become immune to some.

He bid Sheila goodbye and rushed over to Hell's Pass.

He got to the lobby and doctors rushed past him wheeling a gurney.

"Hurry up! He needs the ICU!" He heard one of them say.

"I don't think he's gonna make it doc!"

The person in the gurney looked small; small as in Stan's height. He wasn't identifiable; his face was concealed in a breathing mask.

He grew nervous. What if that was…NO. It can't be.

Kyle's his best friend. He couldn't die on him. He wasn't supposed to die until he did.

Stan followed the gurney to through the automatic doors of the ICU and watched as the doctors frantically attached several IV's and breathing tubes.

He felt queasy.

"One of his lungs ruptured!" Said one of the doctors, "it just got so congested!"

Stan threw up in a nearby waste basket.

"Why didn't his parents catch it early on?"

"Goddammit give me the breathing tube!"

"His heart stopped! Commence CPR!!"

The heart monitor was beeping rapidly. Then it flat-lined.

"SHIT!"

One of the doctors put a cloth over the body and the rest of them dispersed.

"NO!"

Stan broke out in sobs. Tears exploded from his eyes.

He felt a pat on his back and turned around.

There was Kyle, dressed in a hospital gown dragging a wheeled IV and eating an orange.

"Hey dude what's wrong?"

Stan blinked.

"Kyle?"

He threw his arms over his best friend and continued to cry.

Kyle, confused, wrapped his arms around Stan and rubbed his back gently.

A few minutes later, Stan's gasps had ceased.

"Oh my God dude I thought you were dead!"

"No, they were able to give me the medicine in time so I should be fine by tomorrow morning."

"Wait a minute, if you're alive, then…"

Stan approached the gurney where the newly-dead kid laid. He took a closer look and saw that there was a name card attached to the foot of the bed.

McCormick, K.

"OH MY GOD! THEY KILLED KENNY!"

"YOU BASTARDS!"

XX

I just had to do that. The end. I smiled. This one's really short and really shitty. But as I said, better, longer ones in the future. Well, wish me luck tomorrow guys!!

FYI Sheila was crying because she's concerned about the health of her dear son, Kyle.


	15. Dreams

Mana here. Ok, there's really no excuse why I didn't write as much as I would have liked to in these past two weeks. I simply didn't have any inspiration. There, I admitted it! Man that feels good. Butters and Darkmoonphase, thanks so much for your kind words! The surgery went awesome and right now I'm feeling loads better =)  
This fic I came up with at 2 am of last night. It's pretty short, but it gets the point across. Hope you enjoy.

Dreams

What Stan had hoped would just be a regular, fun sleepover at Kyle's house now turned into a hellish nightmare.

He had come around, finding himself in Kyle's closet. He tried to move, but he was apparently bound at the arms and feet. He tried to scream but found that he had been gagged.

"Right here! This is the last of them!" Stan recognized Cartman's sadistic voice anywhere.

He began to panic.

Cartman along with two unidentifiables were dressed in Nazi attire and stood before Kyle's bed where Kyle had just woken up.

"Hmm, Stan?"

The two others grabbed Kyle's arms and bound him to his bed.

"Stan! Where are you?" Kyle tried to break free but the boys were simply too strong.

Cartman slapped Kyle's face.

"Shut up, Jew."

Stan winced.

"Ok guys, begin."

The unidentifiables had let go of Kyle but then pulled out rifles and began beating him over and over.

"Stan? Stan! Help!"

His pleas where becoming more and more desperate, but Stan couldn't do anything besides just watch.

Cartman stuck something long and metal with avstrange shape at the tip into a fire which had mysteriously appeared in the corner before Kyle's bed. He took it out and placed the now white-hot tip against the Jew's cheek.

Kyle screamed.

The mark was a swastika.

"Stan Goddammit! Get out of there and help me!"

Tears were now streaming down Kyle's face but Stan couldn't do anything about it.

"Ok guys, I'm bored," Cartman said, "let me just finish him."

He took a silver revolver out of his Nazi coat and pointed to Kyle's heart.

BANG.

Stan woke up in a cold sweat.

He was still in his room, and the clock on his nightstand read 3:32 am.

_Just a dream_, he thought. _It's all ok._

He tried to go back to sleep, but his mind wouldn't let him.

Something was not ok. Something didn't feel right and secure.

He threw his Terrance and Philip covers off, grabbed his brown coat and slipped into his shoes.

There was only one person he needed to see to allviate all fears.

He reached the familiar olive-colored house which wasn't too far from his. Ringing the doorbell of course was not an option, so he went to the backyard and used a ladder that Gerald had left outside and climbed into Kyle's room.

The window was unlocked, as always (no one needed to worry about security in a small town like South Park). He let himself in as quietly as possible and approached his friend's bed.

He sighed in relief; Kyle's blankets were askew but he was there, with his chest rising and falling in normal intervals.

Stan grabbed his warm hand and began to feel tears welling in his eyes. Sure it was just a dream, but it could have been all too real, right? He broke further as he recalled him calling out his name, for him to help, but he couldn't do jack shit. If something were to really happen to him and he couldn't do anything about it, he'd be torn. Probably kill himself.

"Stan?"

Stan jumped up in surprise and turned to Kyle. His eyes were halfway open and his voice was barely a whisper.

"What are you doing here?" He yawned.

"Couldn't sleep."

"You have to."

Kyle moved over, inviting Stan to join him in bed, which he greatly accepted. All that panic did make him a little bit drowsy.

He laid so that Kyle's back was facing him. He took him and pressed him against his chest, securing him tightly with his arms.

"Stan?"

Kyle wriggled in place, causing Stan to relax his grip.

"Sorry."

"No," Kyle pressed closer to Stan's chest, "that feels really nice."

Stan smiled and held him tight until he drifted away into sleep.

_Nothing's gonna happen to you while I'm here._

XX

Love it? Hate it? Guys, don't leave ladders outside your houses at night or some weirdo will break it and probably rape all y'alls.


	16. Test

Mana here. Ok, so today at school I went to the library in the morning because it was too cold outside and I took out my homework and then my iTouch so I could go online. And then one of the librarians comes up to me and says "it doesn't look like you're doing homework. Put it away." So I'm all "oh, sorry. I'm just checking up on something." Ok WTF???? WHAT THE HELL?? First off, this was BEFORE school hours, so I'm pretty sure I'm entitled to my iTouch and its magical properties. Second, there was like…NOBODY in the library this morning, so I don't think I was disturbing anyone. Plus I had my headphones attached, so there was no noise. And since when was the library strictly for homework use only?? When I lived in Colorado they let us do whatever the hell we want as long as we didn't play games on the computers or make too much noise. GAH I HATE THIS SCHOOL, I HATE THESE LAME RULES!!

Ok, all anger aside, here's something I've thought of today. Finals are coming up for me, which means I gotta get A's on all my tests!!! This actually shouldn't be all that difficult. This fic's really short, just to let you know in advance. I'm sorry. But please enjoy.

Test

There was no way in Hell Kyle was going to go home after school today, so he parked himself on a log by Stark's Pond.

He stared at the frozen water, debating on whether to come home now and get it over with, or just stay a little longer to put it off. He was in deep, deep shit, and there was no way his mom was ever going to let him live it down.

What was so troubling? He stared at the sheet of paper in his gloved hand. It was marked with printed mathematical equations, his answers, lots of red marks, and an ominous red 'F' on the top.

Kyle Broflovski getting an F on a math test? Yes, the likes are very impossible, but that was what had resulted when he blew off studying to play Stan's new game on his Okama Gamesphere. And mind you, it was a very fun game and rather addicting.

But the worst part about that was that he needed to have a parent's signature on the test and return it the next day, because, well, that was how Mr. Garrison set up the system. Gerald had flown to Los Angeles for a very important trial regarding very important people so Kyle had no choice but to turn to his mother for the signature. And anybody who lived in South Park knew what was in store.

Sheila wasn't the most lenient of mothers. Actually, the term "lenient" wouldn't be used to describe her at all.

He stuffed his test back into his backpack and stared off some more. Then he felt two pats on his back.

"I knew you'd be here."

Stan had taken a seat next to Kyle on the fallen tree.

"Why'd you leave school so fast?"

Kyle half sighed, half groaned.

"I can't go home, Stan."

"Why not?"

Kyle showed him his test.

"Don't worry about it. It was only one time."

"You don't understand! My mom…she'll kill me!"

Kyle's voice went slightly high pitched, on the verge to hysterics. Stan put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Every day, she's all 'you must always be perfect, Kyle!' 'You can't afford to slip up even once!' If I go home now and show her this...God…I don't know what she'll do to me!"

"You have to go home eventually."

Kyle stayed silent for a while, contemplating the decisions in his head.

"Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think you could…come home with me?"

Stan smiled.

"What are best friend's for?"

"_Super_ best friends," Kyle corrected.

They both laughed.

The walk home wasn't as grueling as was the walk from school to Stark's Pond, and Kyle began to feel more and more secure. But as they reached his house, ill feelings returned.

"Goddammit," Kyle whispered in his breath.

He should just run away now. Hope was over, and he was about to die.

Then Stan took his hand.

"Go right ahead," Stan motioned to the door, "I'm here for you."

Kyle took a deep breath and opened his door.

His grip on Stan's hand grew tighter.

"Um, Mom?"

XX

Yay! My mom is like Kyle's mom; she, too, expects me to be perfect in school, seeing as that I've decided not to take any AP classes this year so this year should be easy. And it is!!!


	17. Bath

Mana here. I don't think I'm going to school tomorrow…my face looks horribly disfigured! AAAH!! I'm taking an ugly day. (I don't know why, but my eye's swollen.) Well then, what triggered me to write this? No idea, but I'm writing. Yay! I do like this fic a lot. Warning though, Stan's a little OOC…but I guess that's because I made him to fit what I would do in the given situation. I relate most to Stan, in terms of phrases and mannerisms. Then Cartman, because…well, everybody's got a little Cartman in them. And then…Butters, mainly because I'm a suck up to authoritah. I guess that's a Cartman quality too, (me on a regular basis: um, maaaaaaahm?).

Bath

"Here Kyle, it's like this."

Stan was teaching Kyle how to play a particular video game. Both their hands were on the controller, but Stan was pushing all the buttons.

"Sweet dude! Can I try now?"

"Sure."

Kyle pressed the same buttons Stan had, but he didn't get the same effect.

"Could you show me one more time?"

"Yeah, here."

Stan manipulated the controller again, producing the same results as before.

"How do you keep doing that?"

"It's not that hard. If you'd like, I can guide your fingers."

Kyle placed his fingers on the buttons and Stan placed his on top.

Stan's dog, Sparky entered the room, whimpering. Probably hungry.

"Not now Spark, I'm busy," Stan said to his dog, even though most likely he didn't understand him.

Sparky went over to Stan and Kyle and sat down, blocking the TV.

"Go away," Stan tilted his head to see the TV better.

But Sparky refused. He licked Stan's hand, which he pulled away immediately.

"Gross dude!"

Stan went back to teaching Kyle, but Sparky licked his hand again.

"Hey stop that!"

He whimpered.

"Aww sorry dude," Stan petted his back, so he moved forward and began attacking his face with wet slobbery kisses.

"Stop!" Stan giggled as Sparky tackled him to the floor.

Kyle laughed.

"Oh my God!" He heard Stan exclaim from the floor.

"What?"

"Sparky, you smell like crap!"

Kyle laughed harder.

"Kyle this isn't funny," Stan took on a melodramatic persona, "I will _not _have such a smelly dog! We must wash him!"

Kyle sighed as he put down his controller; really, if Stan was good at anything, it would be getting distracted. Looks like unlocking his character's special ability would have to wait to some other day.

He helped Stan to carry a bottle of dog shampoo and some towels outside in the backyard, where there wasn't really any specific designated dog washing place. From records past, Stan would normally just take out the hose and spray his dog down until he seemed clean enough.

But this time, he decided to just go a little further and actually shampoo his coat, to make sure his was actually clean this time, inside and out.

He had taken off his jacket and began spraying him down. The dog seemed calm, but when he began the actual shampooing, he started going crazy.

"Goddammit, sit still," Stan mumbled. But Sparky refused to let his master have his way with him, so to speak. He attempted to shove Stan's cleaning hands away from his coat with his muzzle, but Stan figured out later to grab onto his neck with one arm while using his other hand to scrub his fur.

His front was covered in soap and dog-water, but at least it was getting the job done.

Kyle found this very amusing to watch. After minutes into the process, it looked as though Stan was the one going through the cleansing rather than Sparky; he was covered in the soapy shampoo while Sparky seemed relatively foam-free.

"Goddammit you WILL let me wash you!" Stan tackled his dog to the wet ground and tried again to massage his coat with his hands. Sparky was however a lot stronger (or maybe just more agile) and released himself from his master's grasp, sending Stan face down in the newly-wet dirt.

After reaching a good enough distance Sparky shook himself dry and then disappeared. He'll be back.

Stan showed no motion, too lazy (perhaps too much out of energy) to bother getting up.

Goddamn Sparky. Goddamn fucking dog baths. Why can't dogs learn to wash themselves, like cats? Cartman never had to wash Mr. Kitty, but then again, that's one of the reasons why he became the fat fuck that his is.

He heard footsteps approach him, but he knew it was Kyle.

"Dude," he heard him say as he tried to get him to sit up, "not so passionate about giving Sparky a bath now, hmm?"

"Shut up Kyle," he tried to wipe the mud off his face but ended up smearing it some more, causing Kyle to laugh.

"Maybe Sparky's not meant to be bathed like all the other fancy dogs," Stan thought aloud (mostly to Kyle).

"Guess not. But I do know someone who needs a bath."

Before Stan could question 'hmm,' a jet stream of water hit him square in the face. Kyle had mysteriously grabbed the hose when he wasn't looking at began spraying him.

"Bastard!" Stan tried to take the hose back but that didn't stop Kyle from thoroughly soaking him over.

The two wrestled for the water source, getting more dirty than clean. Stan gained control of the hose, spraying Kyle all over.

In the end, both boys appeared spotless, however very cold.

"Dude," Kyle said through chattered teeth, "do you have any extra clothes I can borrow for the time being?"

Stan led Kyle upstairs to his room, deciding also that a change of clothes for himself was also in order.

XX

I think I ended too early, but I didn't know how else to finish it. I really like it, though. It took me since Saturday to write it but that was because the creative juices weren't flowing, as Chef would have put it.


	18. Warmth

Mana here. WAH!! I'm so ugly!!! I'm almost as ugly as Kyle…lol. Now I know…my mom made Sinigang (a Filipino dish) and apparently I have an allergic reaction to MSG, which is why my eye's been swollen. AWWW THIS SUCKS!! Now I can't eat it anymore, and it's like my favorite. (Haha I sound like such a fatass) Well then, right now I'm taking the role of the Phantom, locked up in my room, typing, and listening to Bach's famous organ concerto. (Mom let me stay home from school to hide my ugliness from the world) But yeah, random thought, everyone says to listen to classical music to help focus on things like school work, but because I play violin, I begin to analyze the music and think about the violin part that I lose total focus =P but that's just me. I'm sorry for using this space to rant about my mundane life, but this helps me vent.

This fic's been something I've though about for a while, but I didn't know how to write it.

Warmth

The Marshes had just invested in one of those fancy electrical fireplaces, where flames magically appear at the turn of a switch. It was one of Randy's temporary obsessions, mainly because the gas bill had been high lately (due to the heating system in the cold winter) and he figured that replacing such with an electrical appliance would be healthy to the financial state of his family. Being a geologist doesn't put much food on the table (because he spends most of it on crazy schemes), and Sharon's job only brought in about $30,000 a year, which is enough for her to buy clothes, groceries and supplies for herself and her children for the whole year.

Kyle and Stan parked themselves on the couch during that particularly snowy afternoon, very warm and very toasty, thanks to the electrical fireplace. For once, Randy did something right.

Their eyes were glued to the TV set; a new episode of Terrance and Philip had finally come out, and there was no way they were going to miss a second of it.

"Are you boys just going to watch TV all day?" Sharon called from the kitchen.

"Dude, it's been ages since there was a new episode of Terrance and Philip!"

Sharon rolled her eyes. Boys will be boys.

After the episode finished, Kyle began flipping through channels to see what was on. Nothing.

So they shut off the TV and sat on the couch.

"Why's it so cold?" Stan rubbed his hands together and blew into them for warmth.

"Dude the fire's out," Kyle pointed to the fireplace.

"Hm? DAD!! The fire's out!"

Sharon came into the living room with a miserable looking Randy.

"Stanley, they shut off our gas because some idiot decided not to pay the bills, so we're going to the utilities office to sort things out."

They left.

"Aw, weak, dude," said Stan, now pulling his jacket on him, "what now?"

"Well we could always use real wood and a real fire," Kyle suggested.

Kyle's family kept warm the traditional way with a blazing fire and what not. It was one of the cheapest ways of using heat energy, and it was fun because Gerald would sometimes take Kyle with him in the forest and chop wood.

"My mom would flip out and make us clean up the ashes later."

"Oh yeah."

Silence.

"Goddammit! It's too cold!" Stan got up from the couch and disappeared in the hallway.

A few minutes later he came back with a rather large comforter, wrapped it around himself and sat back down, turning on the TV to whatever was on.

Kyle gazed over to the luscious bundle of warmth that was Stan. He took a corner of the comforter, which gave Stan the message to let him share it with his best friend. He was freezing too.

"Better?" Stan asked.

"Mm."

They sat at a far distance apart, staring at the TV but not really paying attention to what was on.

"Stan?"

"Hm?"

"It's freezing."

He moved closer to Stan, getting more blanket. Stan moved closer as well, on grounds that he was also cold.

Eventually the two were snuggled up next to each other on the corner of the couch, wrapped in the same comforter.

"Dude, wouldn't it be perfect if Cartman walked in right now?"

"Shut up Stan, that's not funny."

"Oh, you know it is."

Kyle turned slightly red in frustration. Stan brought his free arm around Kyle's tiny (for a guy) frame and brought him closer.

"Cartman would be all 'ay you gay Jew,' and crap like that."

"Dude, not cool!"

Stan mimicked Cartman's voice.

"'Fucking Jew! Go burn in hell!'"

A low growl escaped Kyle's throat.

"Goddammit Stan! That's not funny! Anti-Semitism is not funny! Intolerance is not funny! Cartman's not funny!"

Stan chuckled.

"I know," he took Kyle in closer, "but your boiling blood is what's keeping me warm."

Kyle's already red face deepened to a shade worthy of his red hair.

"I hate you," he mumbled through gritted teeth. But he gave no effort to escape Stan's warmth.

XX

HAH. I wish I could snuggle up with Kyle, I'm freezing right now. Actually, no I'm not. I just wanna snuggle up with Kyle =P Can you blame me? But I'm not as cruel as Stan…or am I?

Electrical fireplaces still rely on natural gas to get the fire going, and that is why Randy fails. He did not know that. And he calls himself a geologist…lol.


	19. Sugar

Mana here. I swore I'd come back to school today, but I felt I should take an extra day off to make sure I'm fully recovered. It's cool though, because finals are next week and all we're doing in class is reviewing (which I can do much more effectively on my own time by myself). I will return to class tomorrow! And Friday, I'm gone again, because I got accepted in this honor orchestra and we have an all day rehearsal, following a concert on Saturday. Scheisse, Scheisse, Scheisse, how did I get myself into all this again?

That being said, it's about time I got Kyle's diabetes into one of my fanfics. When I was younger, I though everyone who had diabetes was fat. But yeah, I came up with this today when I had coffee for breakfast with milk, cream, sugar and whipped cream. Evidence of me turning into a Cartman? Hahaha, I also had tuna with crackers, which later evolved into 4 bagel bites, 3 chicken tenders, and a particularly large brownie. Yep, I'm a Cartman =P HAHAHA dude remember that episode where they thought Cartman was psychic and they told him to say what comes to his mind and there was KFC followed by syrup, whipped cream and stuff? I was all __________

Sugar

After playing with Cartman and Kenny outside in the snow, Stan and Kyle retired to Stan's house. Kyle was sleeping over that night, since his parents had to attend an event.

"Oh my God dude," Kyle's face was red with the cold, "that kicked ass!"

"Yeah! Remember when I got Cartman square in the face with that snowball?"

"Haha and I got him in the nuts right after!"

They laughed, recalling that fine moment.

"Well, you should probably change now," said Stan, eyeing Kyle's soaked attire, "or you'll get sick."

Stan was on his way to the kitchen.

"Aren't you coming too?"

"I'll be right there. I got a surprise for you though."

"Sweet!"

Stan got into the cupboard and took out two Nestle™ hot cocoa packets and poured the contents into two mugs.

The water was already boiling from when Sharon made her coffee, so Stan took advantage of that and poured it into the mugs. Then he added milk for extra awesomeness and topped it off with whipped cream.

He took the mugs carefully and went back to his bedroom, where Kyle was already changed into an outfit Stan had set aside for him.

"Tada!" He set the mugs on his desk.

"Dude I can't drink that. I'm a diabetic."

Stan mentally smacked himself. Of course Kyle was a diabetic!

"But, but, I made it for you," he put on a face as if someone had kicked his puppy.

"Well, I don't know, my mom flipped out when I was at Kenny's once and ate a Poptart."

"But hot chocolate's different because the water's supposed to dilute the sugar."

"I don't know..."

"Pleeeeeeeease?"

Stan's angel face was one that even Shelley, his sister from Hell, couldn't refuse.

"Ok, fine. Maybe just a little."

Kyle took a sip and smiled.

"Dude this is awesome!"

He took a couple more sips and his eyes grew wild as the sugar began to set in. A few minutes later, he and Stan were bouncing off the walls of his room, laughing and jumping on his bed.

Stan cracked up when Kyle managed to fall off his bed; there was a reason why his mother always scolded him when he jumped on furniture.

Stan ran over to where Kyle was now lying.

"Are you ok? Did you break anything?"

Kyle stayed motionless.

"Kyle?"

Crap. Kyle's mug sat ominously atop Stan's desk, empty.

"HOLY SHIT! KYLE? KYLE!"

Stan dialed 911 and the paramedics rushed little Kyle over to the emergency room just in time.

A few minutes later Kyle, though hooked up with IV's and a heart monitor, came around. Immediately he was showered by Stan's apologies.

"Don't worry dude, it's ok," Kyle put his IV-free arm on Stan's shoulder.

"Yeah," Stan calmed down, "I'm just really glad you're gonna be ok."

Kyle's face went white as his eyes shifted over to the door of his ward.

"Oh crap, no I'm not."

Soon enough, Sheila and Sharon came bursting in, faces contorted in rage.

"Stanley, what is the matter with you? You know he has diabetes but you go on and let him drink it! I was home at the time, too! How do you think his makes me look?? You should learn to be more responsible, Mister!"

"KYE-OLE BROFLOVSKI HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID?? I WAS AT A VERY IMPORTANT EVENT WITH YOUR FATHER! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT WAS GOING THROUGH MY HEAD WHEN THE PARAMEDICS CALLED ME? WHAT IF YOU DIED?? I'D NEVER BE ABLE TO SHOW MY FACE IN SOUTH PARK AGAIN!

For a brief moment Stan and Kyle broke gaze from their mother and smiled at each other, stifling laughs.

XX

Guys, don't be feeding diabetics sweets. Feeding diabetics sweets is bad, mmkay? You shouldn't give them sweets, because that's bad. Stan is wrong with the water diluting the sugar part, mmkay?


	20. Shut Up

Mana here. I have reached Style fic #20. What a milestone for me. And it's thanks you all who have reviewed! Really, I'd look at your reviews each day and that's how I survived. I really, really love you all, and I thank you for your encouragement, especially Butters, Nao, Jose, Camaleao, Hamster Fan, and Darkmoonphase. You have no idea how much you make me smile.

WAH I HAVE REALIZED I HAVE SCREWED UP! I just wrote the diabetes one, and then I read the cupcake one and I was all "AY! HOW IS THIS LOGICAL???" And then I lol'd.

This fic right here crawled out of the dark depths of my twisted soul. It's the most rancid piece of shit my rotting mind could crap out. Yet I found it freaking hilarious, and I hope you guys do too, if you aren't busy puking.

Shut Up

"Kyle, are you gonna buy lunch?" Stan asked.

"Nah, my mom packed me a kosher lunch today. But I'll stand in line with you guys."

"Psh," Cartman, "pussy."

Kyle turned to Cartman, the color in his face already setting in.

"Don't call me a pussy, Cartman!"

"I'm just saying," Cartman casually flailed his arms, "but I'd be too, you're mom's a bitch."

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose.

Dammit, not this again.

"DON'T CALL MY MOM A BITCH, CARTMAN!"

"THEN TELL HER TO SHUT HER GODAMN JEW FACE!"

"DON'T BELITTLE MY PEOPLE YOU FAT FUCK!"

"DON'T CALL ME FAT, BUTTFUCKER!"

Every time Kyle's mom would do something for him, Cartman always made an episode about it.

"DON'T YOU EVER TALK THAT WAY ABOUT MY MOTHER!"

"FUCK YOU, I DO WHAT I WANT!"

"YOU'RE SUCH A FATASS!"

"BETTER FAT THAN A JEW!"

It was always the same Goddamn conversation, and Stan was sick of it.

There was something he knew he had to do.

This would kill his reputation. This would make people hate him. But one thing he hated was to see his Super Best Friend upset. Because then he'd be in that crappy mood all day or worse, take his anger out on him. Once Cartman was dead and gone, of course.

Stan grabbed Cartman's bulky shoulder and slammed him against the cafeteria wall. He stared at his adversary for a few seconds, closed his eyes and planted his lips firmly against his.

The whole cafeteria gasped at the sight. Everyone came rushing at the scene, however silent.

Cartman's mouth was agape, which allowed Stan to slip his tongue in.

"Dude," Kyle whispered.

The very awkward session lasted for about a minute until Stan gave in, not wanting to poison his mouth anymore.

Stan opened his eyes, still facing Cartman.

Cartman, however, stood there, not knowing whether to be shocked, pissed off, emotional or hysterical.

That fucking gaywad Stan did _not_ just make out with him!

He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He grew red, but remained against the cafeteria wall.

Kyle's eyes did not blink, nor stray away from Stan.

Stan went over to Kyle and wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

"Shall we go and eat lunch now?" He led him out of the cafeteria.

"Dude," Kyle said in a broken whisper, "why?"

"Because I'm hungry."

"No, I mean—"

"I figured that's the only way to shut him up."

Sure enough, Cartman was still standing at that same spot, silent.

"Stan, that was totally unnecessary."

"I can't stand to see you fighting with that asshole."

"Thanks," he flashed him a smile, which he gladly returned. Then Stan's face turned green.

"Be right back."

He rushed into the nearest bathroom and left Kyle in the hall laughing.

Kyle patted Stan's back when he came out.

"Dude, don't ever do that to Cartman again. It's not worth it."

"I don't think I'll have to."

"No?"

Stan found his arm around Kyle's shoulders once again.

"I don't think he'll want to say anything to you anymore, my dear Kyle."

-Next Day-

"I gotta go home early you guys! My aunt's coming over and my mom told me to help her clean the house."

"Yeah, later dude!"

"Hmph, another Goddamn Jew fucking up this place," Cartman mumbled.

"What was that?" Stan smirked at him with the most snake-like of eyes.

Cartman paled.

"N-nothing. Gaywad."

XX

Aiyaaaa go ahead and flame me ^^ I'll take it like a man. Seriously guys, even I felt nauseous while typing it. And I had to eat dinner too. Oh man.


	21. Cookie

Mana here. It is finals week! And so far I had my economics test, which went quite swimmingly, and now I got my psychology one! I'm scared...I hope I get an A on it. I have a 90 in the class and I'd be devastated if it went to a B. OH GOD WHAT WOULD MY MOTHER SAY? Lol Kyle moment. But really I shouldn't have anything to worry about because, and I quote Randy Marsh, "OBAMA'S PRESIDENT NOW!!" Haha, do you see just how much I tie South Park into my everyday life? But yeah, congrats Obama! Too bad I wasn't able to vote for you.

This I found quite adorable. Hope you will like it.

Cookie

When school got too tough, Kyle would always pray to Jehovah that he could use some sort of black magic to take him back in time to kindergarten.

Kindergarten was where everything was supposed to be nice and simple. The most difficult assignments included spelling "mouse" or "umbrella" correctly. Even that was ok, because they'd get naptime in between to think and perhaps reflect.

But when cookies were offered, it turned into a battleground.

The big cookies were to be claimed by the fastest children, subjecting the last group to the not so great small ones.

That day, Kyle had been one of the fortunate children and took a large white sugar cookie. He had his insulin injection that morning, so he was allowed to take part in the consumption of sugar.

He took a seat on the floor next to the books; it was the most colorful side of the room and he was rather fond of it.

He picked up a book called Chrysanthemum. The girls had always claimed that book during reading time and he thought it looked pretty sweet. He was so indulged in it that he didn't notice a group of kids walk up to him.

"Dude Cartman," one of the boys in the group said, "you've had like five already."

"Fuck off, Craig! These cookies are sweet!"

Kyle looked over and saw that his cookie disappeared. His eyes went up to the fat kid called Cartman who had his cookie in his pudgy hand.

"Jews don't get cookies," the fat kid sneered as he swallowed Kyle's cookie in one bite.

"Dude!" One of the boys in the group told Cartman as they left Kyle.

"What? Jews don't count as people. My mam said they killed Jesus."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Why do you think Hitler wanted them all dead?"

The boys were amazed at how much Cartman knew about history and the bible and stuff.

Kyle, however, was not. Tears welled up in his eyes. He wasn't sure whether to be upset at the fact that that fat bastard stole his cookie or that he insulted his religion, so he decided to be upset over both.

"Here dude."

Kyle looked up to see a beautiful looking blue-eyed child. His raven black hair was shaped quite nicely around his face and his smile seemed to warm him up a little. Kyle wiped his eyes with his sleeve and blinked.

"Take half of mine," the blue-eyed boy handed Kyle half of his cookie and sat next to him.

Kyle nibbled on it quietly while the boy took a seat next to him on the floor, playing with a football.

"I'm Stan, by the way," said the boy.

"Kyle," Kyle whispered, "and thanks."

"Sure. Cartman's always going around and bullying people, so don't be sad."

Kyle lips twitched into a slight smile.

"He's gonna get his fat ass handed to him some day."

They both laughed.

"Hey, wanna play football with me?"

"You know how to play?"

"Actually I just know how to throw it, so let's play catch."

"Ok."

Stan stood up and then helped Kyle. They ran outside, to a desolate corner of the grassy playing field.

"Hey Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Did the Jews really kill Jesus?" He was thinking about Cartman's remark earlier.

"No. He lives like two blocks away from me. Why?"

Kyle smiled, feeling better.

"No reason."

--

"Kyle? KYLE!"

Kyle twitched as a grape hit his forehead and bounced off on the lunch table.

"Goddammit Stan, don't do that!" He yelled to him from across the table.

"Well you were totally spaced out. I had to wake you up somehow."

"Oh," Kyle shook his head to wake up. He went back to eating his kosher burger (Kyle's mom threw a fit last fall to have the cafeteria serve kosher food) but realized a particular item of his lunch was missing.

"Cartman give me back my cookie!"

"No way dude! I only had like four!"

"Like you need anymore, fatass!"

"AY! Don't call me fat!"

"Well give me back my Goddamn cookie!"

"Fuck no! These things are fucking sweet!"

Cartman left the table to scavenge for more cookies throughout the cafeteria.

"Goddammit I hate that asshole!"

Stan gazed over at Kyle to find him red in anger and frustration. He looked at the cookie in his hand and broke it in half.

"Here, dude."

Kyle looked up from the table.

"Take half of mine. These things are pretty fucking sweet."

"Thanks, Stan," Kyle took the half graciously.

"Don't mention it. I hate seeing Cartman do shit to you."

Kyle nibbled on the cookie slowly, wanting very much for its sweet tastiness to last.

XX

Like that? I found it pretty sweet and friendship-y but I do want to get back into deep Style someday. I don't know, I feel really insecure about going into the deep stuff but I definitely want to try.

I don't know if you've seen it, but I paralleled Stan with Jesus Christ, breaking the cookie and sharing it with the Jew. In the bible, Jesus broke the bread and shared it with his disciples, all twelve whom were Jewish. And as you probably have seen, there's been some Stan-Jesus references in the show ("oh what a picture perfect child, just like Jesus he's tender and mild" and during the Stations of the Cross Kyle wanted Stan to be Jesus). Yeah, I'm Catholic xP


	22. Strawberries

Mana here. Dude I'm so happy; I got A's on all my finals, which means I've got a 4.0 now!! It's been a while since I had straight A's too…I wonder what happened?

Mmkay, I'll admit, I haven't been online much these days, mainly due to the fact that the wireless service I use in my room for my laptop had mysteriously disappeared (it usually comes back though…I hope it comes back soon) and I don't usually like going online downstairs on my family's main computer. So I am at school putting this up.

My dad got back from a business trip and bought a huge box of strawberries on a road stand. They're so delicious and awesome, but no matter how people tell me how sweet they are, I always always find them sour.

Strawberries

"Dude guess what?" Stan asked Kyle and they were walking home from school to Kyle's house.

"What?"

"I got an A on Garrison's last science test!"

Kyle smiled. It seemed as though the countless hours he'd spent with Stan helping him study for that test definitely paid off. And besides, Mr. Garrison's tests were pretty damn hard. Why the hell would fourth graders even be learning about the women's menstrual cycle?

"Sweet! I knew you could do it if you studied."

"I had you to help me with that, what are you talking about? You know I can't study on my own."

It was true; living in a house with a father obsessed with new schemes, a sister who is constantly on his ass for something he did/didn't do, a dog that is probably gay for him, a grandpa who wants to die by means of assisted suicide, and a mother who tries to keep the peace doesn't really benefit Stan when he is in need for a nice quiet moment to review ovulation.

"Well, any time you need help, you know where to go."

Stan smiled a thanks.

The two finally reached Kyle's house. Kyle opened the door and let himself and Stan inside.

"Mom?" Kyle called into the house, "I'm home!"

No answer.

"Guess she's not here," Stan hopped onto a couch and reclined.

Kyle picked up a note on the coffee table next to the couch.

_Kyle,_

_Took Ike over to the doctor's. _

_The strawberries on the kitchen table are for you and Stan if he's coming over._

_-Mom_

And sure enough in the kitchen, a bowl of fresh strawberries sat on the table, glistening from wash.

"Aw sweet dude!"

Kyle motioned for Stan to go over to the kitchen with him.

Kyle took a particularly large strawberry and sunk his teeth into it. The sweet red juices dribbled down his chin, which he paid no attention to; when it came to strawberries, their tastiness came first.

Stan stifled a giggle at his friend's enthusiasm. Kyle was definitely a mature kid for his age, but when it came to his favorite foods, he'd regress back to his child-like instincts.

"Try one, Stan," Kyle offered a strawberry to the boy in the red poof-ball hat, "they're really sweet!"

Stan took it and bit into it. He made a face; it was sour.

Stan was one of those people who tasted sour in all fruits. Even though people around him would be enjoying the most ripest of pears or blueberries and telling him how sweet it was, he'd find it slightly sour.

"You don't like it?" Kyle asked as he finally wiped the strawberry juice off of his chin.

"I do, I do," Stan said quickly, "just a little sour is all."

Kyle got up from the table and went to the fridge, digging around for what he was looking for.

"Close your eyes," he told Stan over his shoulder.

Stan promptly shut his eyes. He wasn't at all nervous at what would probably happen next, but knowing Kyle, he's probably prepare something awesome for him that he'd most likely enjoy.

He finally heard his friend open what sounded like a plastic container.

"Ok, open your mouth now."

He obeyed. Suddenly his mouth was overtaken by a sweet, creamy sensation along with something a little sour and a little sweet.

He opened his eyes and saw Kyle dipping a strawberry in a tub of whipped cream. He smiled.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you could do that to fruits."

"Isn't that what Cool Whip's for?" Kyle popped the cream-covered strawberry into his mouth, licking at the cream that had accidentally strayed to his fingers.

"I usually put it on ice cream and cookies and stuff."

"That sounds kinda disgusting."

"Eh? Why??"

"You make it too sweet then."

"What's wrong with that?"

"I like having things balanced. A little sour with a little sweet, you know what I mean?"

Stan tasted the strawberry in his mouth. Strawberries were delicious, yes, but by themselves they weren't as tasty. When added cream to the red fruit, it did seem to make it better. He could have the wonderful taste of strawberries, along with the sweetness of cream. It worked out perfectly.

"I guess you're right." Stan dipped another strawberry and bit into it. And Kyle was right; it tasted a whole lot better.

XX

Finally! My first fanfics in a matter of like 2 weeks? It's been that long ago??? Lol, I love strawberries, yet I do find them sour. I find a lot of fruits to be sour, bananas being one of the only exceptions. Muzzar puts sugar on them soz that they taste better.


	23. Towels

Mana here. With good tidings! I got my report card on Saturday and guess what…I got a 4.0 for the first semester!! Happiness…I just gotta make sure to do it again for this semester. I really hope I don't start slacking off…they say the second semester of senior year is the hardest. Gasp.

Dude, I had so much fun writing this. I really wanna go camping now.

Towels

After much begging by Stan to both sets of parents, Kyle had been permitted to go camping with the Marsh family. It seemed Stan couldn't handle being one week without his super best friend, so by all means, Kyle had to come.

The two were currently swimming in the lake only a few minutes' walk from their campground, and both were enjoying immensely. The drive over there, believe it or not, took a lot out of them, and they decided for a chance to cool out and relax but most importantly, have fun.

"That was pretty cool of your parents deciding to take me camping with you guys," said Kyle.

His cheeks were flushed from the sunlight, which accented his sparkling eyes quite nicely.

"Don't mention it; I really wanted you to go," Stan combed through his wet hair with his fingers. When his hair was wet, it always seemed longer than it actually was.

"My parents decided to schedule this trip the same week Shelley's on her period, and well…you know." Stan shuddered.

Kyle nodded in understanding. In the past, being only budgeted to two tents, Mr. and Mrs. Marsh would share the large one while Stan and Shelley would share the smaller other. It really sucked too; once Shelley was so pissed off about how cramp the tent was that she made Stan sleep outside in the cold while she took his sleeping bag along with hers and stayed cozy.

On this trip, however, it had been agreed that Shelley would sleep in the car while Stan and Kyle get the tent. The car was plenty warm, which made her slightly less hormonal. Stan and Kyle got the benefits too; what could be any more fun than two super best friends staying in a tent together?

"I'd rather share a tent with a grizzly bear than with her," said Kyle.

"That's my sister you're talking about!" Stan splashed Kyle in mock hurt.

Kyle laughed and flipped his wet red hair to the side out of his eyes.

"But at least grizzly bears are cuddly."

"Point taken."

After much more swimming the boys decided it was time for dinner; they could already smell the hot dogs cooking from the campsite (kosher hot dogs, on Kyle's part).

"Dude that was so much fun," Stan's green towel was draped around his neck, which was tanned from the sun. He shook his head so that his hair would dry faster.

"Seriously! Let's go again tomorrow, ok?"

"We're here for a week, we can do this like every day."

Kyle searched Stan's bag for his towel, but for some reason couldn't find it.

"Hey Stan, did you pack my towel before we went swimming?" Kyle had by now emptied all the contents out of Stan's bag.

"I think so, is it not there?"

"Nope."

"Weird, I clearly remember packing it. You had the blue one, right?"

"Yeah."

"Ah well," Stan draped his towel over his shoulders, "sorry about that."

Kyle began to wipe himself off with the shirt he wore, but he wasn't as successful.

"Dude, you should just use my towel," he handed Kyle his towel but Kyle backed away from it.

"But it's yours."

"So?"

"You used it already."

"Yeah, and I'm letting you use it now."

"But-but," Kyle sputtered, "it's covered in your…water."

Stan let out a loud ridiculing laugh.

"Seriously Kyle? We're sharing a tent tonight and you can't even share towels?"

"That's different! Sharing towels is like sharing underwear. It's disgusting!"

"Wha-" Stan sputtered, "Kyle, just take the fucking towel!"

"No!"

Stan mumbled something that sounded like "Goddammit" and threw his towel over Kyle, which he shed off immediately.

"Kyle you're gonna get sick if you don't dry off!"

He chased Kyle with the towel and after much hassle (and threat of towel-whipping) he managed to get it around Kyle's body, holding him up to his chest to make sure he doesn't escape.

"Ewww," Kyle cringed and tried unsuccessfully to wriggle out of Stan's strong arms.

After much aggressive towel-rubbing, Kyle was relatively dry and very much in pain, due to the sunburn he had received while swimming. As soon as both boys got dressed in a new set of clothes, they headed out back to the campsite.

"Goddammit you are so high maintenance!" Stan jokingly pushed Kyle.

"Me? I was fine drying off with a fucking shirt!"

"You know what, shut up!"

They continued the rest of the way mock-arguing with each other, which no one questioned. Super best friends are allowed to insult each other on a regular basis.

That night after a delicious dinner of grilled hot dogs, Stan and Kyle were snuggled up in their sleeping bags, which they had combined into one (it was seriously cold you guys…it's Colorado…you need all the warmth possible) A small lantern turned on near the opening of the tent, because even though they were together, the woods at night is pretty scary for eight-year-olds.

"So Kyle, did you find your towel at all?" Stan stretched in all tiredness.

"Nah, but that's ok, I don't mind sharing with you."

"You just don't wanna have to go through me kicking your ass to get you to dry off again."

"You did not kick my ass!"

"Did so!"

Meanwhile a few miles away from the campground, on a lonely highway, a blue towel had awoken from a deep stupor. Its bloodshot eyes darted back and forth, trying to grasp a concept of its surroundings.

"Oh man," the towel moaned, "I have no idea what's going on."

XX

HAHAHAHAHA that was AWESOME!!! eep, ok, I'll lay off the ego.  
I'm not a towel-nazi like Kyle. Oh, and wear sunscreen before you go swimming because sunburn hurts. Especially if you're forced to towel yourself. And that did not sound dirty at all =P


	24. Immunizations

Mana here. Dude…when I was younger I'd get super freaked out at shots. I'd be all crying and screaming…haha it really sucked. But I must say, I've grown out of that, except for when I was getting my wisdom teeth removed; I was crying when they put the IV in me because they had to keep switching arms since they can't find a decent vein. Hahaha.  
Well, I wrote this in my German class, reminiscing on the thought. Haha, we never do anything in my German class…I miss the one in my old school, I actually learned stuff from there. If I stayed at that school, I would be fluent right now. But meh, I know a pretty good amount.

Immunizations

Stanley never understood how Kyle was always able to poke himself everyday. Kyle had always been a diabetic, and his condition required him to give himself an insulin shot to make sure he doesn't pass out when eating sweets.

Stan stared at Kyle during lunch as he was preparing to inject himself. He watched as the thin needle penetrated the Jew's pale flesh. Kyle flinched a little once the needle was inside him; Stan nearly threw up.

"How the hell are you able to do that to yourself?"

Kyle shrugged.

"I'm used to it, I guess."

"Doesn't it hurt?"

"A little. When my mom used to do it, it hurt a lot, so I decided to do it from now on."

"You're crazy, dude."

Kyle wiped off the blood with an alcohol-soaked towelette and continued with his lunch.

Later they returned to class, where Mr. Garrison's vital lecture was interrupted by a loud speaker announcement.

"Attention students," Mr. Mackey said through the speaker, "due to a sudden outbreak in a new epidemic, the PTA has decided on mandatory immunizations. They will be held shortly in the nurse's office, so please report there ASAP in an orderly fashion, mmkay?"

The class groaned in unison.

"Aw Goddammit!" Cartman turned to Kenny, "what the hell are you infecting us with this time?"

"Why the fuck do you always gotta point to me every time there's a new disease?"

"You're poor, Kinney. Diseases always come from poor people."

"The fuck they do," Kenny mumbled bitterly.

Stan didn't pay any bit of attention to Kenny and Cartman, for he was too focused on one thing and one thing only; he'd be getting a shot in a few minutes.

He didn't even feel Kyle pull him in line with the other children.

"This is weird," Kyle said, "aren't only our doctors supposed to give us shots?"

"I heard my mom talking last night about the PTA agreeing to gave the nurse give us shots," said Clyde.

"What? My mom's president of the PTA! Why didn't she tell me?"

"'Cause she's a bitch."

"Don't call my mom a bitch, Cartman!"

"Eric Cartman?" The nurse called from the room, "you're next."

"Sweet," Cartman entered the room.

Kyle nudged Stan.

"I bet he's not gonna last a second in there, right Stan?"

"O-oh," said Stan uneasily, "yeah. What a fatass."

And sure enough, Cartman's scream and cry for his mother was heard throughout the halls.

"Oh my God!" Kyle had burst out laughing, "I fucking knew it!"

Everyone else laughed at Cartman's weakness. Everyone except for Stan.

Shit. If someone supposedly as "tough" and "badass" as Cartman couldn't take a shot, then what about him?

"Kyle Broflovski and Stanley Marsh?" The nurse called, "you're turn."

"Sweet, come on, Stan."

Kyle pulled Stan to the nurse's office. Stan went unwillingly.

"Alright sweetie, just take off your jacket and take a seat right here," the nurse motioned Kyle to a bed.

Kyle sat on the bed, all relaxed; he was used to things like these. He didn't even flinch at all when the needle pricked his arm.

"Ok, you're done," the nurse said and turned to Stan, "your turn."

Stan slowly approached the bed and took a seat.

"You don't look so good," Kyle noticed Stan's sudden greenness.

"Dude, I can't do this," said Stan, "I'm not used to getting shots like you."

"Sweetie, why don't you sit up here and hold his hand," the nurse said to Kyle, "would you like that, Stanley?"

Stan looked over to Kyle, who was already on the bed next to him.

"It's cool," Kyle assured.

The nurse smiled and unwrapped an alcohol-soaked napkin. Stan twitched when the sudden coldness hit his arm.

Kyle grabbed his hand.

"Dude, she didn't even put the needle yet."

"I know. It just felt weird."

The nurse picked up the ominous syringe from the metal tray next to her.

"It'll help if you turn away," she told Stan, who's eyes were fixed on his victim arm.

"Oh. Yeah." Stan looked away.

"It's ok, dude," said Kyle, "it's just a little prick and you're done."

Stan breathed heavily, trying to release all nerves.

"Ok, ready?" The nurse took hold of Stan's arm, bringing the needle to it.

_Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._

The needle had barely touched his arm and he was about to release a scream when he suddenly felt Kyle's lips on his own.

The shock factor from that took away all anxiety from receiving the shot; he did not feel the pain at all.

"All done, sweetie," the nurse said, bandaging up Stan's arm with a blue band-aid.

"Seriously?" That went surprisingly fast.

Stan and Kyle left the nurse's office together, silently laughing at those standing in line, awaiting shots.

"Dude, Kyle," said Stan.

"Yeah?"

Stan blushed.

"You…kissed me."

"I did."

"Um…why?"

"You were gonna scream and I didn't want people to make fun of you like they did Cartman."

Stan laughed nervously.

"Was it really that bad?"

"You should have seen yourself."

"Goddammit I'm not like you, ok? I scream at shots. That's the only reason why they don't actually hurt."

"The shot didn't hurt when I kissed you, did it?"

"I…I guess not."

Stan smiled at Kyle.

"Thanks for that, dude. I'd rather you do that than I scream and everybody hears."

Kyle laughed.

"Just call me when you have your next doctor's appointment."

XX

Again, like all my oneshots, I don't feel the ending is complete D: but it's kuu  
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Dude…haha I really hated shots when I was little. I keep thinking about how scared I was back then as I was writing this. Once when I was a baby I kept moving and accidentally bent the needle. Take that you bastards.

Lolol, review?


	25. Suicide Note

Mana here. Dude, prepare for long awesomeness. I think this is the longest oneshot I've written for this pairing. I think. Yay! Butters, those are some pretty sweet ideas you gave me, and I'll do my best to make something out of them, ok?

This one, based on a little excerpt of my life, when everything sucked balls for me and I didn't have a super best friend back then to make it all better. Sadness. Hahaha ah well, here you go.

Suicide Note

"Kyle," Sheila tapped her foot on the polished hardwood, "where were you?"

"Hm? I was at school."

Sheila pointed to her watch.

"Three-twenty, Kyle. It's three-twenty. School ended at three, and the bus ride took three minutes, which left you another three minutes to walk home. You should have been here fourteen minutes ago. Where were you?"

"Oh, sorry, mom. Kenny wanted to show me something so I swung by his place for a little bit."

"You were over by his place? Kyle, what did I tell you about going places without my permission?"

"But mom I just wanted to see what was over there," Kyle argued.

"No Kyle, I told you to go straight home after school this week! You have to help me clean the house because your aunt is coming over!"

"I'm sorry! I just—"

"No more excuses! I've given you all the freedoms you could ever need and you've abused them! You are grounded!"

"Mom, please," Kyle pleaded, "it was just one time. I promise it won't happen again!"

"NO! Go to your room right now!"

Kyle gave up and dashed upstairs, slamming the door shut behind him.

Really, his mom grounded him over the stupidest things! He threw himself on his bed, frustrated tears spilling through his eyes.

Every time he'd step even one baby toe out of line, he'd be paying the price at full blast. It was ridiculous, and something had to be done.

But unfortunately, Kyle had little to no power over his mother, so he had to deal in the best way possible. He decided to write.

It wasn't just going to be some random shit, no. He wanted to portray the shocked expression of his mother in his mind if she reads it, so the most shocking thing he could think of was a suicide note. But of course, he had no intention in sending it to her or actually commencing in the act of suicide. Kyle loves life, but in times like these it was a pretty killer way to vent without hurting anyone.

He took a seat over at his desk, took out one of his blank notebooks and a pencil and scribbled down furiously.

A knock came to his door after signing the "suicide note" himself.

"Yeah?" He answered irritably.

Sheila entered his room

"Kyle, bubbi," she said, "I'm sorry for yelling at you like that."

The anger in Kyle's heart suddenly lifted.

"Oh," he said, surprised, "uh, it's ok, I guess."

"Sorry, it's just I was so stressed about my sister coming over and I had to make everything perfect and I lashed out at the wrong people."

"No, it's fine," he turned to face her, "it was my fault for making you mad anyways. I'll try to come home earlier next time."

She kissed him on the forehead.

"Would you like to help me clean downstairs?"

"You mean I'm not grounded anymore?"

"Nope. In fact, you can go down to the store right now and pick me up a bottle of Clorox."

"Sweet."

Well, now that all was well between him and his mother, Kyle graciously accepted the twenty bucks and marched happily to the supermarket.

Meanwhile, Stan had just rounded the corner to Kyle's house in the opposite direction. He entered the house, where he saw Sheila polishing the oak dining table.

"Hello, Stan," she said without looking up, "come to see Kyle?"

"Yeah," he said, "he forgot something of his at school and I wanna give it to him."

"He just left, but you can put it in his room if you like."

Stan ascended the staircase, knowing the direction to Kyle's room just like his own. He knocked on the door even though he knew no one was inside; it was just common courtesy.

Pieces of paper littered Kyle's floor, and Stan saw that his window had been open. He closed it and began to pick up the sheets. The information on the sheets mainly consisted of homework assignments and notes, but one particular paper written in maroon ink caught him by surprise.

It was dated with today's date. He read:

_Dear mom,_

_By the time you receive this note, I will no longer be of this Earth._

_I tried to be a good son, a good brother to Ike. I've worked all my life to please everyone around me, trying to make the world a better place little baby steps at a time. I felt the love from my father, brother, the acceptance from my best friends, even the kind support and acknowledgement of my teachers. But the most important person in my life, my mother, had never returned the love I've given to her the past eight years._

_When I'm around you I always feel imperfect. It's like I'm that stubborn speck of dirt that won't wash off the dish, no matter how many times you've scrubbed it, but at the same time, I feel like the public enemy of your communist nation, an excuse to be angry. Believe me, mom, I try very, very hard to make you happy. But I never receive your love in return. I am your son, and from everything I've heard in movies and in fairytales, mothers always love their sons. I know now that that is bullshit._

_I feel deceived and lied to, as I now reflect on my short life. Never once have you acknowledged me for anything I've done. Never once have you embraced me with the love a mother showers a son in. Each day when we take a test, I return home with a perfect score, hoping to gain your approval, but you brush it off and simply tell me to do it again next time. _

_After much realizing, I've came to the only conclusion: suicide. I just grew tired of being disappointed by you day after day, and I've decided to end it. For the both of us, and for the greater good._

_Don't cry, mom. This is a new beginning. No longer will you be disgraced with the worst son in the world. No longer will you have to be angry and something that will never improve. No longer will you have to work day in and day out, to make sure I'm perfect so your image will be saved. You won't have to deal with that anymore, I'm finished._

_Love always,  
Kyle_

The sheet fell through Stan's hands like heavy butter.

He knew Kyle's mom was horrible, a bitch, if you will. But he didn't think Kyle would be this upset over something she's done.

He had to find Kyle, fast.

"Mrs. Broflovski!" He called through the living room, "goddammit where is your son?"

She raised an eyebrow and his profane question but answered, "He went to the supermarket, why?"

Stan didn't respond but instead, rushed out the door at full speed.

He knew the direction to the supermarket and followed that path as fast as possible. He finally caught sight of Kyle, exiting the store, with a bottle of Clorox in his hands.

Clorox? His heart sank.

"KYLE!" He screamed.

Kyle turned.

"Oh, hey," but before he could say anything else the bottle he was holding was snatched out of his grasp and thrown viciously against a wall, cracking the plastic.

As Kyle was about to go retrieve the remnants, Stan grabbed his arm and slapped him hard on the cheek.

"WHAT THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU DOING?" Stan's face was angry and teary.

"Whoa!" Kyle backed away from Stan, hand clutched to his face, "What the hell? I just bought that!"

"SHUT UP! YOU TELL ME RIGHT NOW WHAT YOU WERE GOING TO DO WITH THAT BLEACH!"

"Um…give it to my mom?"

Stan blinked.

"You were gonna kill your mom too?"

"WHAT? No! She told me to buy it for her 'cause she's cleaning the house!"

"Kyle…" Stan buried his face in Kyle's chest. Kyle froze when Stan wrapped his arms around him in a tight grasp, and felt his cracked sobs.

"Whoa dude, what's up?"

"Kyle," he said through tears, "would you mind telling me what that suicide note in your room was for?"

"You were in my room?!" He pushed Stan away, "whoa, whoa, that note meant nothing! I just wrote it because I was pissed off at my mom!"

Stan wiped his eyes.

"You think I would kill myself just because my mom grounded me? I'm not stupid, Stan. I just wanted to vent."

He moved closer to Stan and hugged him.

"I'm sorry," Stan said and he kissed the part of Kyle's face that he struck.

"You know I'd never kill myself, Stan. I though we knew everything about each other."

"Yeah. Sorry about that."

"It's cool. Just don't go snooping in my room again…you know I'd tell you anything that goes on with me, ok?"

Kyle patted Stan's back. "Go home with me?"

"Yeah…but…how about I buy you another bottle of Clorox first, since I kinda…"

Kyle laughed at the memory.

"If you must."

XX

Hahaha once I got in trouble with my parents for drawing a little suicide manga thing…that was when I was new in CO and I didn't have any friends and the teacher pissed me off that day. I was just venting and the wrong people took it as a different message. Goddammit I can't remember what my parents did to me but I just remembered I was screwed. It's cool…I'm not like that. I'm Butters dude, I love life.


	26. Oranges

Mana here. I saw an orange on my sister's bed and that's how I got the idea. Yeah, ok, this one's pretty short, much like my earlier Styles, in fact, in the style of my earlier Styles. But I'll come up with better ones, I promise =D

Oranges

When it came to peeling oranges, Kyle was able to do it without a single membrane bursting and juice spilling everywhere.

At lunch he concentrated on a single orange, working his fingers through the thick skin until conjuring a perfectly, unpeeled masterpiece.

The result reminded him very much of those chocolate oranges, the ones that would break into wedges after simply banging it on the table or any other hard surface. It looked so delicious as he took it apart slice by slice. He popped a slice it into his mouth. The hard work definitely paid off with a sweet, satisfying burst of juice.

Stan on the other hand did not have quite the magic fingers.

He stared at the pulpy mess before him, not understanding where he went wrong. He tried working on it at first like he saw Kyle do, but for some reason he could never get the same results.

"Need help?" Kyle asked after swallowing his last slice.

Stan grinned stupidly and passed his beaten up orange to his best friend.

Kyle took it but then took note about how squishy and juicy it was.

"Jesus Christ dude! You fucking murdered it!" He licked off the juices that had leaked to his fingers.

"You think it's still peel-able?" Stan asked.

"Only one way to find out."

Kyle worked through the orange, frustrated that it was too soft and therefore much difficult to peel. Eventually he did manage to get all the skins off, but the result was in many soggy pieces.

"Uh…" said Stan, "sorry I kinda killed it."

Kyle took a piece and popped it in his mouth and licked his fingers clean.

"It's cool," Kyle picked up another orange from his tray, "want me to show you how it's done?"

He gave the orange to Stan, who was unsure of what to do next.

"Where do I start?"

Kyle guided his hand to the bottom of the fruit.

"Poke a hole here with your finger," he tapped on the spot.

Stan did as so, but he managed to accidentally break the membrane, causing the juices to leak.

"Goddammit," he pulled his finger out and gave it back to Kyle.

Kyle chuckled and started where Stan had left off.

"All in good practice, Stanley." He finished the peeling in a matter of seconds.

"Aw sweet, thanks Kye," Stan reached out for the freshly peeled orange, but Kyle held it away.

"I worked hard to peel this," he said, "What do I get in return?"

Stan blinked twice and kissed Kyle on the cheek as way of a payment.

Kyle blushed.

"I was hoping for a sleepover at your place tonight, but I guess that works too."

He gave the unpeeled orange to Stan, who took it apart and ate it slice by slice.

"You can come over tonight, actually," said Stan, "I've got plenty more oranges at my house, and I want to learn how to unpeel."

XX

Haha. There. I promise better, ok?


	27. Chocolate

Mana here. Man…I haven't been updating this as much as I usually do, huh? Sorry about that. Well...the kettle in my house broke so now I gotta make tea the old fashioned way (letting a pot boil) lol.  
I swear, the only chocolate I'll never get tired off is those Lindor Truffles. Dude, seriously, I love them. The Swedish are AWESOME for creating them.

Chocolate

The previous night, the Broflovski family played host to a boring adult party in honor of Gerald's winning of one of the most current trials. The trial, beginning last week, was regarding a multi-million dollar scandal of a corporation and its workers. The details are too boring for anyone except for lawyers, but the only thing that mattered was that Gerald was representing the workers while some creepy sleazy lawyer guy was representing the corporation. After intense deliberation, the corporation was found guilty on grounds of corruption. As a result, they had to surrender one million dollars to the plaintiff. Gerald, being a lawyer, claimed thirty percent of the winnings, but instead of keeping the money to himself like a good corruptor, he decided to throw a party for his team and the workers he was speaking for, to celebrate winning the trial.

The gathering was very fancy, as hundreds of dollars were spent to make it perfect. There were ice sculptures, butlers, French appetizers, linen tablecloths, a string quartet, crystal dishes, Victorian wine glasses, exotic beverages (alcoholic and non-alcoholic alike), and most importantly, a chocolate fondue.

When Kyle walked downstairs during that evening dressed in a tux, his eyes immediately fell upon the heavenly fondue. But really, who wouldn't be amazed? It was a hot tub of melted chocolate with strawberries, marshmallows and tea cookies on the side for dipping. However, his mother told him not to eat any of the food while the guests were still there; if, Heaven forbid, he had finished off a dish himself, why, there would be Heck to pay. Feeling that the rest of the party seemed pretty boring, he retired to his bedroom, got undressed, and went to sleep.

The next day, however, the party was over. This day would be devoted to cleaning up and setting everything, all the furniture, back to the way it was initially. Kyle had Stan over to help him clean up because otherwise, he'd be doing it by himself; his parents were asleep, those lazy bastards.

Surprisingly enough, both boys managed to clear the living room entirely and with combined strength they pushed the furniture back to their original places. Kyle had the dishwasher running and all was well.

"What now?" Stan asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

"I guess it's all good," Kyle dried his hands off with a small towel, "are you hungry?"

"Actually, I am."

Kyle scanned through the leftover hors d'oeuvres; they didn't look as appetizing once they were a day old. They were all cold and hard now.

Then he remembered the chocolate fondue. A large box of Lindor Truffles was sitting on the counter along with the precious fondue and he saw that there were still leftover marshmallows and tea cookies (the strawberries had become too soft and unsavory overnight).

"Stan?" He asked, "do you know how to work that thing?" He pointed to the fondue machine.

"Uhh," Stan got up from the table and examined the machine, "I think so. Don't you just light a candle underneath it or something?"

"That's what I thought…I wasn't sure."

Stan whacked Kyle over the head, "you need to learn to listen to you heart."

Kyle spun around once Stan was at the counter, preparing the fondue.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Stan simply smiled. "Just go on with unwrapping the chocolates."

Kyle did as he was told, deciding he didn't want to be confused any further.

The truffles looked really good. Kyle popped one into his mouth and it exploded in a chocolatey bliss. Once the fondue pot grew warm, he placed the truffles in one by one. They melted quickly.

"Alright," Kyle said, "now we just do this…" He took a marshmallow from the bowl next to him and dipped it in the chocolate until it was halfway covered. Then he ate it.

"Oh," he moaned, "that's good."

Stan laughed at his friend's newfound pleasure and tried it for himself. Kyle wasn't exaggerating. It was simply heavenly.

Being thrifty, both boys used as little chocolate as they could when dipping, yet enough to take in the flavor. Melted truffles in a fondue was like the gold of the confections world. Eventually they ran out of things to dip, but there was still plenty of chocolate left over. Kyle brought his finger to the pot and tried to dip his finger and lick it off. However, the chocolate had been lying in the pot for quite some time under the heat, so the extreme heat of it had burned his finger.

"Ow!" He withdrew his finger immediately, "I burnt myself!"

He heard Stan laugh at his misfortune.

"That's not funny Stan," he said, "that really hurt!"

Stan took Kyle's hand and brought his chocolatey finger to his mouth. Kyle paled.

"S-Stan?!"

"Mmm," Stan said while sucking the chocolate off his finger, "so good."

Kyle snatched his hand away, but Stan grabbed it back.

"But Kyle," he whined, "I'm trying to make you feel better."

He took back his hand and continued to "heal" Kyle. Kyle couldn't help but giggle; Stan's tongue felt weird on his finger.

"You can stop now, I think I'm fine."

"There's still chocolate on it though, I'm trying not to waste it."

"Dude, I think you got it all off."

He took Kyle's finger out of his mouth, but instead of returning it to the Jew, he dipped an even larger percentage of his hand in the melted chocolate.

"Dude!" Kyle jerked at the sudden heat.

"Sorry Kyle, this chocolate's really good." He licked Kyle's hand off quickly, for the chocolate was too delicious to wait.

"So use your own hand!"

Stan took his last lick of Kyle's hand and returned it to him. He dipped his own hand in the chocolate. Kyle gave him a "that's more like it" look, but instead of Stan licking off the chocolate himself, he didn't expect to find himself the next second with Stan's chocolate-covered finger in his mouth.

"Stan?" He slurred, speech inhibited by Stan's hand.

"I burnt myself, could you make it better?"

"You bastard, you did that on purpose!"

"But…it hurts. I want you to make it better."

Kyle rolled his eyes but decided to lick off the chocolate anyway. But then he realized, this chocolate was good by itself! Like, sure the whole solid ones are tasty, but once melted, it was all in pure delight. Once he finished him off, he dipped his hand in the chocolate again.

"Ow," Stan cringed at the heat of the chocolate, "that actually does hurt, you know?"

"Oh, well you know now how I feel," Kyle said smugly and continued to devour Stan's hand.

"Know how _you_ feel? You should probably know how _I_ feel, wanting that awesome chocolate!"

"Shut up and let me eat."

Stan chuckled. He watched his face; Kyle looked as though his was trying his hardest not to look like he had given in to the chocolate and keep a straight diplomatic expression. Eventually he gave up on looking serious and licked viciously at Stan's hand.

Little did they know, Kyle's mother had just woken up and was making her way into the kitchen.

"Is everything ok boys?" Sheila called from the hallway, "I'm hearing a lot of noi—"

She stopped at the sight; Kyle was licking at Stan's fingers and Stan was sitting there content, looking as though it were normal.

"Kyle, bubbi?" She said.

Kyle looked up, surprised by her sudden presence.

Crap.

"Yes?"

"Let go of poor Stanley's fingers."

XX

This made me pretty damn hungry…I'mma go buy me some chocolate now.


	28. Stark's

Mana here. I wrote this a while back, but never completed it until now XD I wish it was colder…I like the cold better than the heat because when it's cold I can just stay in bed next to my computer and be all cozy while I drink tea.

Stark's

It was summer in South Park; a rare occurrence. The snow had melted off of everything, and the citizens braved the warmer weather in shorts and t-shirts.

Kyle and Stan had been playing football together by Stark's Pond and having the most epic time of their lives, because there was no snow to obstruct their ways, which made running, throwing and catching a whole lot easier. Both boys realized just how fast they could run without the snow in the path of their little feet, so as a result, they played using their absolute strength and energy.

But one thing that they missed about the cold was that they never got as sweaty and hot when playing football. Kyle had taken off his shapka, letting the air flow through his auburn curls, just realizing how hot his head was.

They didn't get this hot when playing in the snow, because the coldness of the snow would always help balance out the competing temperatures. But when it was hot like that, relief was very rare to find.

"So…hot," Stan panted, as he took off his brown jacket. He was wearing a red and blue T-shirt underneath, which accented his hat perfectly.

Kyle laughed at Stan's dramatics as he shed of his own orange coat. He sported a short-sleeved light orange collared shirt that seemed to suit him well.

"I'm…gonna…fucking…die," Stan had began to cling onto Kyle, as if somehow holding onto the Jew would cure him.

Kyle laughed and pushed him gently away.

Then Stan shot up quickly from his sitting position, taking note of the pond behind Kyle.

"Oh my God!" said Stan, "the pond's unfrozen!"

Kyle looked to his right and sure enough, Stark's Pond was not in its usual ice form. He laughed at Stan's sudden burst of energy as he rushed towards the dock and sat down, wading his feet in the water.

"Dude! This feels so good!" Kyle heard Stan call from the dock. He smiled as he walked over there, taking a seat next to Stan.

Kyle tapped the water with his fingers, withdrawing them immediately. It was so cold!

"Put your feet in, Kyle," Stan told him, "it feels really nice."

"Oh, no thanks."

Kyle didn't like natural bodies of water. It wasn't that it was so big or that the water was so cold. He didn't like the idea putting any part of his body in the same place where fish were swimming and seaweed was growing. For all of his life, the only water he's been in was in the bathtub, where the goal was to get clean.

Kyle saw Stan pout at him when he backed away from the edge of the dock.

"I don't like being in lakes," Kyle said.

"But this isn't a lake!"

Kyle waved his hand sideways.

"Same thing though. There's fish. And plants."

He shuddered.

"Aww but the fish are so cute!" Stan noticed a fish approach his right foot, nibbling at his toes. He giggled.

"Stop it dude," he said to the fish who did not hear him, "that tickles!"

Kyle made a face.

"Doesn't that creep you out?"

"Aww I don't think Kyle likes you very much," he said to the fish. He flexed his toes and the fish left.

"Why don't you put your feet in, Kyle?"

"Because. There's stuff in there. Like fish."

"So what?"

"What do you mean, 'so what?' It's creepy."

Stan kicked the water below him, splashing Kyle.

"Dude!" Kyle shielded himself with whatever protection his bare arms could offer.

"Was that creepy?"

"No but I'm all wet now."

Stan splashed him some more.

"Seriously!" Kyle laughed. He ran his hand in the water, splashing Stan in retaliation.

Soon a small battle broke out, each boy trying to get the other wetter.

"Jesus Christ Stan! I'm getting all wet!"

"Just put your feet in the water Kyle. And I'll stop."

"Are you still going on about that? No way, dude."

"Do it or I'll push you in."

Stan's eyes were mischievous, looking directly into Kyle's.

"You wouldn't," Kyle said coldly.

Stan smirked.

"There's seaweed in your hair."

Kyle's let out a stream of high-pitched profanities and his hands flew to his hair, trying so desperately to get whatever it was out. In the midst of his frenzy he had toppled over the dock, falling into the shallow pond.

Stan laughed out loud as he watched Kyle attempt to stand up. His waterlogged clothes looked heavy on him and seemed to pull him down. But he paid no attention to that; his hands were frantically sorting through his hair.

"Is it out?" He asked, eyes looking fearful.

Stan leaned over to Kyle, their faces almost touching. Then he said with a sneer, "I lied, you dick."

Kyle grew red in what appeared to be a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"DON'T CALL ME A DICK, DICK!" He grabbed the black-haired boy by the front of the shirt and pulled him into the pond with him. He fell with a heavy splash but managed to stand up faster than Kyle had.

"Dick," he said again to provoke Kyle; nothing was more fun than an angry, hyper Jew.

Kyle lunged at him, and soon the battle from earlier had resumed, more violent and vicious than ever. The weight from the water had slowed them down significantly and they were losing energy fast. Eventually, they were reduced to sitting opposite each other in the shallow part of the pond, gasping for breath.

"Seriously, Kyle," Stan breathed, "you should have just put your feet in. Now I'm all wet too."

Kyle turned to Stan.

"It's your own damn fault," he said.

Stan stood up and walked over to Kyle. He extended his hand to him, but instead of a gesture to help him up, he reached his hand further to his cheek.

"Hold still," he told him. Then he unpeeled a piece of seaweed that found itself to Kyle's cheek during their epic "battle."

Kyle tried hard not to scream.

"Eww," he cringed.

"Oh come on, you're already in the water," Stan pulled Kyle to his feet by the arm, "and you seemed to be having a fun time," he laughed.

"No, it was not fun!" Kyle said, shaking bits of water out of his hair, "it was very traumatic!"

Stan smirked.

"You know it was fun."

"If I say it was fun, will you be happy?"

"Very."

"Ok, it was fun then."

He patted Kyle on the back, "there you go. Told you. And you've cooled off too."

"Right. Let's go dry off now before I get myself sick again."

Stan gave him two pats on the shoulder and walked ahead, peeling his shirt from his skin and wringing it. Kyle followed Stan from behind, and stayed at his back for a while, to hide his smile and little hints of laughter from earlier events.

XX

Woo. I'm at school right now lol. Aren't laptops just awesome?


	29. Birthday

Mana here. I'm gonna cut down the swearing for a while, just because it's Lent and I've decided to give up swearing. But that doesn't mean I'm gonna give up swearing on ze interwebs...lololol. XDDD Enjoy, I'm thinking of writing a new series as this particular one draws to 30. Because...it's about time I end this one and begin a new one...idk about you, but I get overwhelmed seeing a fic with like 40 chapters and they're all oneshots. But don't worry I'm still keeping it Style oneshots, since Style's the only thing I'll always love writing =)

Birthday

Cartman's birthday.

This was the one time of the year everyone looked forward to. Every year, Eric Cartman would invite the whole class to his birthday party, which grew more extravagant than the last. Last year, there was a Ferris wheel and clowns and cotton candy; basically his entire backyard had been transformed into a circus/carnival.

This year, Eric was turning nine years old and after much whining to his mother (and lots of overtime hours on Lianne's part) he was going to have the biggest, baddest, most awesomest birthday party ever. There would be a roller coaster that went up a dozen stories high, the best carnival food concessions this side of the Rockies, a lion's cage, a huge-ass cake, and to top it all off, the Jonas Brothers, every elementary schooler's dream.

Hey, it's not every day you turn nine.

The kids at school were looking forward to this event since Cartman announced it three months prior. Today, he gave out slips of paper to the students that indicated what to get him for a present. This was always the hassle part, because Cartman was always a spoiled brat at these. If you didn't get him what he wanted, he would shun you from the rest of the party, or worse, call off the party all together, like what happened the previous year when Kyle gave him "Ants in the Pants" rather that that Mega Man ranger he so very wanted.

Speaking of Kyle, it was Friday and the Jew sat in the sandbox with Stan, Kenny and Butters. He observed as Cartman handed out slips of paper to his classmates, listing the type of present(s) to get him for his birthday. Eventually, that fat bastard approached the group holding out three slips.

"Here you go," Cartman said, distributing the slips among Stan, Kenny and Butters, "you all know the procedure nyah."

Kyle raised an eyebrow when he skipped him.

"Hey fatass, what do you want me to get you?"

Cartman turned.

"For what?"

"For your birthday, asshole," Kyle rolled his eyes, "what am I supposed to be buying you for a present?"

"Why would you buy me a present? You're not even invited."

"What? Why the hell am I not invited?"

"I hate you," Cartman shrugged casually. Then he left.

"Ah, screw it," Stan said from beside him, "don't worry about it Kyle."

"Yeah," Kenny said, patting him on the back, "it'll probably be really lame anyways."

But as soon as Kyle left to go back to the classroom, he could have sworn he heard his two best friends express their excitement about Cartman's birthday party. And not only those two, but the whole damn fourth grade class was all hyped up about Saturday. It sickened him, hearing about the party he wasn't invited to all around him.

Despite the lameness of Cartman, Kyle didn't feel like letting this whole "not getting invited" thing pass. Sure, Cartman was always an arrogant son of a bitch to him, but damn, his birthday parties were one of the only few reasons he'd hang out with him. Each year he looked forward to the event, being entitled to all the free sweets and cake his pancreas would allow him, and with the insulin shot, he could eat as much as Cartman himself. Plus all the fun he'd have with his friends made it all the more worth while.

The day continued on, and he sighed. Without this party to occupy himself with, he'd be spending this weekend at home, where he'd probably be forced to do homework and stuff because his mom would be all "if you're not gonna do anything, then study!"

At the end of the day, he figured he shouldn't get too worked up about this situation. It was plain fact that Cartman did hate him, and he knew eventually that he'd be not invited to any one of his birthday parties, but still a small part of him wished he was going. His friends would be there, and most importantly, Stan. He and Stan usually went together to the party, and to be honest, being with Stan was the only way he'd get through with having to deal with Cartman's antics, which grew even more annoying on his special day.

"Well, see ya Monday, Kyle," Stan waved to him once school ended.

"Yeah," Kyle looked down, "you have fun at Cartman's for me, ok?"

Stan smiled sadly, but promised him he will.

It was Saturday and Kyle was stuck a home, as predicted.

"Kyle," Sheila called from the kitchen, "aren't you supposed to be going to Eric's birthday party?"

He cringed slightly.

"No mom," he said, "I've got a lot of homework and I'd rather finish that all."

His mother smiled, "alright then, just come down if you need anything."

Kyle stayed in bed for the rest of that morning; the homework excuse was only a half truth. He did have a significant amount of assignments, but he completed half of them in class, and if he were to complete the remaining now, he'd be bored throughout the rest of the weekend.

Afternoon came and Kyle had moved from his bed to his desk, where he was doing math homework. _This is probably the part where Cartman's opening his presents now,_ he thought to himself as he circled a completed answer.

Then from behind him, his window opened with a whoosh. He turned around quickly and found Stan climbing through into his bedroom.

He smiled at his presence.

"Stan?" He asked, "aren't you supposed to be a Cartman's?"

Stan successfully made his way inside and approached Kyle's desk.

"Yeah, but I left. Kenny's right, it was pretty lame," he stretched, "but he's still over there. Free food and what not."

Kyle got up from his desk to close the window.

"Ah," he said, "and you're here?"

"I figured you'd be bored by yourself. Plus I brought you a slice of cake."

He motioned to the two plates on his desk that Kyle somehow didn't see when he came in. How Stan managed to climb up the house into Kyle's room through the window while holding two plates of unscathed cake puzzled him, but that confusion was forgotten once he sinked his teeth into a forkful of the vanilla ice-cream cake.

Stan took a seat on Kyle's bed with his plate in hand and the two ate silently.

"So, how was the rest of Cartman's party?" Kyle asked in between bites, "did he really get a roller coaster?"

"Yeah dude it was epic!" Stan's eyes lit up, "me and Kenny and Butters went on it five times, and since it was only a rental, it was really crappy and the seatbelts didn't work, and Kenny almost fell off during the upside down part!"

Kyle laughed.

"Sounds like fun then."

"Eh, not really." Stan flipped his hair back casually.

"Hm?"

"Well, it would have been sweet, but then you weren't there. That's kinda the reason I left."

"Dude! You didn't have to leave just for me!"

"I'm serious! I've always enjoyed Cartman's birthdays when you were there and since he decided not to invite you, I figured that I didn't want to be invited either."

Kyle got up to hug Stan.

"You mean that?"

"Why else am I here?" He stole Kyle's hat and ruffled his red curls. "come on, let's watch TV now."

XX

Sweet. Thanks for reading! One more oneshot till this is done, then I'm starting a new one =)


	30. Lent

Mana here. Woo last one shot for this series! As I mentioned last chapter, I am creating a new series, also Style in the form of oneshots. It's gonna be sweet, and I've already got an idea for the first fic. I figured since I made this series really Stan-centric, I'm gonna try to make them a little more Kyle-centric.

Anyway…..it is Lent! And you know what that means for you Catholics out there…time to give up something in the name of sweet Jesus! I'm giving up swearing, and since I'm like Stan, he's gonna have to do so as well, so sorry Marshy, you gotta clean up your mouth for this fic!

Lent

Mardi Gras had come in the blink of an eye and the season of Lent had begun once again. Lent was the time for Catholics to repent for their sin as their lord and savior is prepared to die on the cross in forty days.

As of this year, the Marsh family decided to participate in the holy season in order to re-establish their connection with God, since that past year they've dealt with many questionings to their religion, which resulted in temporary conversions to Atheism and Mormonism. Father Maxi had told them that if they did one more thing going against the Catholic faith, their souls would be doomed to Hell for all eternity.

This year, Randy was to give up World of Warcraft; he thought it was a pretty good game and he spent countless hours at work on his computer rather than looking through sediment analyses. Sharon was to give up chocolate; it was mostly for diet purposes rather than establishing a connection with God. Shelly was to give up listening to her Britney Spears records, but that was ok, because NSYNC was hotter. And Stan, well, Stan decided to give up swearing.

This was probably one of the harder things Stan had to do; all his life he'd been hearing curse words from both his father and his sister and also on television, so it had been engraved in him. Plus he's friends with Eric and Kyle, who do nothing but argue and curse at each other the minute their eyes meet.

"So you can't say 'shit'?" Kyle asked Stan during recess.

"Nope," Stan said confidently.

"And you can't say 'fuck'?"

"Nu-uhn."

"So you can't say 'I'm Stanley Marsh, the gayest fucking piece of shit—'"

"KYLE!" Stan pushed the Jew off of the swing he was sitting on and he fell into the moist wood chips.

"Sorry dude," Kyle laughed as he stood up, "I was just testing."

Kyle brushed himself off, but then flinched when a sliver of a woodchip penetrated his palm.

"SON OF A BITCH!" He shouted in pain.

Stan took his hand and sure enough the splinter was in pretty deep.

"Ow, Stan what are you doing? This hurts! I need to see the nurse!"

"Hold still for a sec," Stan took off his red mittens and tried his best to pull out the splinter.

"Fuckfuckfuckfuck," Kyle muttered under his breath quickly, as if it would ease the pain. Stan winced at Kyle's profanity. Somehow, it didn't feel right having the innocent one splurge out obscenities when he was forbidden to join him.

After about a minute of prying and more cursing from a teary Kyle, the splinter was out.

"There you go," Stan said, "now I just gotta wash off all the blood."

He took Kyle to the nearest water fountain and doused his wounded hand in the cold water.

"Ow, fuck," Kyle said as the water stung his cut.

"Dude, would you stop saying that?" Stan asked him.

Kyle blinked, looking hurt by Stan's comment.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly, "I mean, well, since I _can't_ swear…"

"It's cool I understand," Kyle finished washing his hands and slipped his mittens back on.

"Well, you can, but just not…you know. All extreme like that."

"Sorry, I'll do my best," he patted Stan's back. Stan smiled, feeling good that all was ok between him and Kyle. Their friendship wasn't fragile, but it had its sore spots occasionally.

"So, why can't you swear again?" Kyle asked him.

"It's Lent, dude," Stan explained, "during the forty days before Easter, Catholics gotta give us something for that forty days in order to build a connection with God, and I chose to give us swearing, just because I do it a lot."

"Really? What happens if you don't give up anything?"

"Well, Father Maxi says you go to Hell."

"Whoa, dude. Isn't that a little extreme?"

"I guess." He sighed.

"Psh. Lent." Cartman had approached the two from the football field, apparently forbidden by Craig from playing ball with after the fatass accused him of cheating.

"Hey," Stan greeted, "what are you giving up for Lent, Cartman?"

"I don't need to give up anything," he said as he sat down with them, "I already wrote God that kickass song, I think he should be happy with that."

He was referring to his "Faith + 1" venture, where he "wrote" love songs to Jesus and God.

"Uh, I don't think that's how it works, Cartman," Stan said.

"Goddammit! I hate fucking Lent! The Jews all start acting up and kill Jesus!"

"Shut up, Cartman!" Kyle shrieked at him.

"Ay! You have no right to talk right now, Jesus-killer! Should you go be preparing a cross to crucify some Christian?"

"You better not have just fucking said that!"

"I just did, kike!"

"Don't call me a kike, fatass!"

"DON'T CALL ME FAT YOU FUCKING KIKE!"

"CARTMAN WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?"

Kyle and Cartman both turned to Stan.

"Dude—" Kyle began but was interrupted by Stan talking to Cartman.

"Cartman why the fuck you gotta act like this every goddamn Easter? Stop ripping on Kyle for being a Jew during Lent, you fucking fatass! You already give him enough shit during Christmas, so just give him a fucking break!"

Cartman blinked.

"What the fuck Stan? Did Kahl get some of his sand in your vagina?"

"FUCK YOU, FATASS! YOU'RE THE WORST FUCKING CATHOLIC EVER AND I HOPE YOU DIE AND ROT IN HELL!"

That portion of the school playground grew silent as Stan's last words hung in the air.

"We-hell then," Cartman stood up, "I'll just leave you two fags alone now."

Stan breathed in loudly, so as to get the smoke out of his head. He always hated standing between Kyle and Cartman during their fights, and more importantly, he hated hearing Cartman insult his best friend in front of him.

"Stan," Kyle's face was a white as a sheet, "you're going to Hell!"

Stan looked down, suddenly remembering his covenant.

"I guess I am."

"Why'd you do it Stan? I could have handled Cartman by myself."

"I know," he said, "I just don't like hearing him call you stuff like "kike" especially during the time where, you know, Jesus dies."

"It's cool, it's happened before."

"I know, but I just…"

He didn't finish his thought, but he knew that he wanted to say that he simply wanted to defend his best friend. He just didn't know how to put it to him without making him sound weak, so he brought up another idea.

"Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, let's just say I was going to die and the only way you could save me was to eat pork. Would you do it?"

"Of course I would, Stan."

Stan smiled.

"Well, there you go."

XX

Excellent, excellent. That brings this series to a close. I'd like to thank everyone who had taken time out of their busy lives to read this and review. You've all given me confidence to keep writing, no matter how miserable and lonely times were, and now. I'd like to thank the people who've subscribed to this, giving me more motivation to keep writing. Watch out for my new series, (not quite sure what to title it yet, but the summary shall explain it). Thank you all again! I love you, seriously.

Always,  
Mana


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